Disclaimer: This world and all its characters belong to JK Rowling. I wrote this purely for entertainment purposes, and have no wish to sell, copyright or otherwise claim any of this content.

James came awake suddenly, and immediately started to panic. Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong. Harry. His eyes snapped open and he jolted upright, only to be consumed by a wave of dizziness. Groaning, he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. No, I'm not dealing with this right now! Slowly the dizziness subsided, and when he looked up he was surprised to find himself in a clean, white room. St. Mungo's. Harry. More cautiously this time, he pushed the sheets back and swung his legs off the bed. He was relieved to see his glasses and wand sitting on the table beside his bed and, grabbing them, he got carefully to his feet and was about to leave when he was intercepted by a healer. Lily. James raised his wand, as much to keep the memories at bay as to warn off the healer, who looked like she wanted to put him back in his bed.

"I'm leaving," he said shakily.

"Not in that shape, you're not." The healer reached for James' wand, but he jerked it out of reach.

"You can't hold me here against my will. I'm leaving."

The healer hesitated, and James took that chance to push past her. In the hall, however, he stopped. Sirius had taken him here, so he should be around somewhere. Where was he?

"Mr. Greene!"

James took off, walking swiftly towards the lobby. He could find Sirius once he was out of here. Thank God he was on the first floor, he didn't think he could handle stairs at the moment.

"Mr. Greene, you can't just walk out!"

James ignored her.

"At least let me do one last diagnostic. It's protocol."

Sighing, James turned and spread his arms. "Fine. Make it quick."

A few minutes later, James was standing on the muggle street outside St. Mungo's. Ducking into an alley, he tried to remember where Lily's sister Petunia lived. Surrey, wasn't it? Little Whinging? He twisted, and a moment later staggered onto the muggle street where Lily's sister lived. He cursed as he felt a twinge of pain in his shoulder and felt the warm trickle of blood. Maybe he should have listened to the healer and not Apparated. Quickly he conjured a bandage to stem the bleeding, then looked up and down the street. Which one was Petunia's? They all looked the same.

Walking up to the nearest house, James knocked three times. He was answered a few seconds later by an elderly man in a bathrobe.

"Good day, sir. Can you tell me where Petunia Evans – no wait, it's Dursley now, isn't it? Can you tell me where Petunia Dursley lives?"

The man stared at James for a minute, as though he couldn't quite figure something out. Then he lifted a finger and pointed down the street. "Number Four, Privet Drive," he said loudly.

James thanked the man, and turned down the street. He had visited, once, at Petunia's baby shower. Lily had wanted to go, but she had left in tears after Petunia called her a freak in front of everyone. James still remembered the anger he'd felt towards her at the time. He had promised himself never to let anyone hurt Lily like that again. And now Lily was gone, and Harry was with Petunia.

Reaching Privet Drive, James walked swiftly down the street, counting the mailboxes until he reached Number Four. Walking up the driveway, he knocked firmly on the door then stood back, waiting.

The door was opened by a walrus of a man with almost no neck and a huge mustache. Vernon, wasn't it? "We're not buying anything," the man growled. The door slammed shut in James' face.

"Wait," James called, knocking on the door again. "I was told Harry was here. My son."

There was a short silence, and then James heard the man bellow, "Petunia! Someone's here for the boy!"

James knocked again, but the door remained shut. Inside, he could hear footsteps, the sound of a door slamming, and then the front door opened to reveal a skinny woman with a thin face. She was holding Harry out in front of her, like he was contaminated with something. He was crying.

"Here!" she thrust him at James. "Take it." James hastily took Harry into his arms, hugging him tightly and rubbing his back. "Hush," he murmured, kissing the top of Harry's head. "Daddy's here now, Harry. Hush." He looked up, and was mildly surprised to see Petunia still standing there, watching him with a strange look on her face. As much as he wanted to yell at her for letting Harry cry, for calling him "it," he also felt that might be a bit rude. So instead he said: "Thank you for looking after him."

Petunia nodded, still hesitating. She started to say something, then stopped, then blurted out, "Is it true that she's dead?"

James swallowed, looking down at the top of Harry's head. "Last night," he whispered.

Petunia nodded once, then said quietly, "Thank you. I'd appreciate it if you and your kind would stay away from my family now." And with that she turned on her heel and walked back inside, closing the door firmly behind her.

Walking to a nearby park, James sat on the bench and adjusted Harry in his arms so that he could look at him. The only physical injury that he could see was the jagged cut on his forehead that Sirius had mentioned. Harry had quieted as soon as James started walking away from Privet Drive, but now he started to whimper again.

"Dada," he whimpered. "Mama!"

"I know," James whispered, and felt tears begin to slide down his cheeks again. "I'm so, so sorry, Harry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry, I should have been there." Choking back a sob, he took a deep breath and looked up at the gray sky, blinking away the tears. He couldn't afford to fall apart right now. Harry needed him.

They sat together for a while, and soon Harry's breathing slowed, his eyelids drooped and his head nodded onto James' shoulder. Taking another deep breath, James tried to sort out what he was going to do. He couldn't go back to Godric's Hollow, that wasn't an option. He couldn't go to Dumbledore, because he had decided that it would be better if less people knew he was alive. The less people knew, the less chance there was of it getting to Voldemort, who would be out to get them again as soon as he learned Harry was still alive. He had decided that for now, the only person he would trust was Sirius. He would tell Remus once he had a plan for how to go forward.

Carefully reaching around Harry to get his mirror, James wondered where Sirius could be. He had brought James to St. Mungo's, of that James was sure. After that, though, James would have thought he'd have stayed. Maybe he had gone to get Remus. Or maybe he had gone to find Peter. James still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Peter had betrayed them, but he knew that Sirius would have no such hesitation.

"Sirius Black," James whispered, trying not to wake Harry. When there was no answer, James let out a growl of frustration. This was starting to become a problem. "Sirius Black," he tried again, a little louder.

After the fifth time, James started to worry. He stared at the mirror for a moment, then placed it back in his pocket and took out his wand. Luckily it was the middle of the morning on a workday, so there were no muggles around to worry about. And if there were muggles where Sirius was, well, this was an emergency. And he wasn't answering his mirror.

Summoning an image of Lily on their wedding day, James said quietly "Expecto patronum." Nothing happened. He stared, shaken, at the place where his patronus should have been. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. "Expecto patronum." The day Harry was born. Nothing. "Expecto patronum!" Breathing heavily, James desperately took in great gulps of air, as though that would fuel his patronus. Something happy, he needed a happy memory. For some reason the ones he normally used weren't working. In his arms, Harry stirred and James closed his eyes, caressing Harry's hair. The look on Remus' face after the first full moon when James, Sirius and Peter accompanied him as animagi. "Expecto patronum!"

Nothing.

Harry whimpered, and James held him close, rocking back and forth. "Harry, what do I do?" he whispered. "I need you to be safe, we need a place to go. Tell me, Harry, what should I do? What would Mummy do?"

"Mama," Harry whimpered. James felt his small hands clasping his jacket, and he kissed the top of Harry's head. "Uncle Padfoot isn't answering, and Daddy can't make a patronus," James said, trying not to think about what either of those meant. "Dumbledore's not an option. Uncle Moony's at Greyback's … but he wouldn't mind if we stayed at his house. Okay, Harry." James took a deep breath and, gathering Harry close, stood carefully. "We're going to stay at Uncle Moony's for a bit. And we'll see if Moony can help us find Uncle Padfoot."

It was raining when James stepped off the muggle bus onto the street that would take him to Remus' house. He was lucky to have married Lily, he thought. Because she was Muggle-born, she always insisted that they carry around a few pounds of muggle cash for emergencies. He was running low, though, of both wizard and muggle money.

Unbuttoning his jacket, he wrapped it around Harry, who had been quiet almost the entire journey. James was grateful, but also a bit worried. Sirius had said he found Harry in the closet, bloody and silenced. What had Harry seen?

Casting a warming charm on himself and Harry, he set off through the dreary November rain towards Moore Street, which would take him to Oak Lane (Pvt), down which, for almost two miles, there was nothing. At the very end of Oak Lane sat the small house that Remus called home. Usually he just Apparated there, but with Harry and especially in his current condition, there was no way he was going to risk Apparition.

Ten minutes later, after walking on Moore Street, James turned down Oak Lane. As he walked through the skeletal trees, he cautiously allowed himself to start thinking. It was a bit unfair to just show up on Remus' doorstep without warning, especially when Remus probably wouldn't be there, but it was an emergency and James could pay him for any inconvenience. It wasn't like he didn't have the money. He could stay at Remus' for at least one night, or until he could figure out where to go, and he could try to contact Sirius again. Frowning, James hoped fervently that Remus was okay. The conditions he had left him in hadn't exactly been ideal, and there was nothing James could do about that right now. In any other circumstance, James would already be back at the camp by now, or he wouldn't have Disapparated at all. Sighing, James quickened his pace. He needed to get to safety, eat, sleep, and then find Sirius and Remus. Please let them be safe.

It was getting dark by the time James reached Remus' house. Harry had fallen asleep again, and James was so hungry and tired he could hardly think straight. Walking up to the door, he placed his hand against it and said "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good." There was a light click, and James pushed the door open, shutting it quickly behind him and leaning against it, breathing a sigh of relief. After a minute, he pushed himself up and walked over to the kitchen, searching the cabinets for something, anything that he and Harry could eat. Finding some canned beans and a loaf of bread, he set Harry down gently on the table, trying to arrange his coat so that it both covered Harry and acted as a pillow. Once he was sure Harry wouldn't fall off, he set about cooking the beans and slicing the bread.

After he ate, he woke Harry gently. "Harry, kiddo, wake up." Harry opened his eyes and James blinked, momentarily shocked. Somehow he had never noticed before quite how much they resembled Lily's. Swallowing, he shifted Harry sideways in his arms and took a spoonful of beans. "How about some dinner, Harry?"

It took a while, but eventually James got Harry to consume ten spoonfuls of bean mush and a small piece of bread. Then he wearily piled everything into the sink, telling himself he would deal with it later, and walked to the small couch Remus owned. Taking off his boots, he transfigured his jacket into blanket and lay down, holding Harry close to him and covering them both. Harry fell asleep quickly, and for a while James lay there, staring at the ceiling and stroking Harry's back. Closing his eyes, he saw Lily before him, laughing and holding Harry, looking so happy. Then he saw her standing at the bottom of the stairs, smiling gently at him and telling him to go. I want you back in one piece. Those had been the last words she'd said to him. But what had he said? Had he told her he loved her? He couldn't remember. Taking a deep breath, he let it out, and with that breath a wave of grief seemed to crash over him and he started crying uncontrollably, sobbing deep in his chest. It was a long time before his sobbing subsided and he finally managed to drift into an exhausted sleep.

Remus walked tiredly up the road to his house. He could have Apparated right in, but he'd needed the walk to clear his mind. He'd had a full day, and tomorrow was going to be even worse. James and Lily were dead, Harry was at Petunia's, and Peter was missing. Remus supposed the only good thing that had come out of this day was Sirius being caught. For some reason he had been at St. Mungo's, and apparently he had put up quite a fight when the Aurors tried to subdue him. The fact that no one had been hurt surprised Remus: he knew how good of a duelist Sirius was.

That day, he had mostly been helping clean things up at the Potters' ruined house in Godric's Hollow. Then he had Apparated to Peter's house, only to find him missing. He'd immediately contacted the Aurors, who'd in turn asked Sirius. Apparently, Sirius had answered, "If I knew where he was, he'd be dead." Remus supposed that meant Peter was alive, but it still hurt him deeply. Sirius had been their friend, they had trusted him – how could he have betrayed them?

Reaching his house, Remus murmured the password to the door and slipped into the dark house, relieved to be home. Leaning against the door, he buried his head in his hands, holding the tears at bay. He wouldn't cry. He could save that for after the funeral. The funeral. He didn't want to think about tomorrow, when he would have to think about what he was going to do for James' and Lily's funeral.

Sighing, he lowered his hands and raised his head, only to freeze. There, asleep on his couch, lay James Potter, clutching a sleeping Harry to his chest. Staggering over to the nearest chair, Remus sank into it, staring at them. No. How was it possible? James was dead! But they never found his body. And he was with me when Lily's patronus arrived. But Harry's supposed to be at his aunt's…. Remus couldn't pull his eyes away. Desperately, so bad it hurt, he wanted what he saw to be true. But the logical side of his brain told him it wasn't possible. Harry was at his aunt's. Dumbledore had said that James was dead. Sirius had said that James was dead.

And yet here James was, with Harry, asleep on his couch. No one but James, Peter, Sirius and himself were able to get into this house.

"Unca Mooey!"

Remus looked at Harry, who was wriggling in James' arms. He managed to free himself from James, who only groaned, and almost tumbled off the couch before Remus darted forward and grabbed him just in time. "Mooey, Unca Padoo," Harry gurgled.

"Moony."

Remus looked up into James' eyes, and knew at once without a doubt that it was him. His eyes were red, like he'd been crying, and even after having been asleep he looked tired and drained. Nevertheless, he pushed himself up and reached for Harry, who Remus gave to him. James hugged Harry close, kissed him, then looked up at Remus. "I'm sorry we just barged in, Moony. I – we didn't have anywhere else to go."

Remus just shook his head. "You're alive," he whispered. "Oh James, thank Merlin, you're alive." Then, before he could stop himself, he started crying. "I'm sorry, James, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault."

James frowned. "What are you talking about, Remus? You didn't tell Voldemort where we lived. You didn't – " James' voice broke, and he cleared his throat. "You didn't kill Lily."

"If I'd come with you, I could have helped. If we'd Apparated out as soon as we saw Lily's patronus, she wouldn't have died. If I'd offered to be Secret Keeper, you wouldn't have been betrayed – "

"Remus. Stop." Something in James' voice made Remus' voice die instantly. "It's not your fault, no one knew. If I'd known, do you think any of this would be happening right now? No one suspected him. Merlin, Sirius suspected you. If anyone should be apologizing, it's me for believing him."

Remus shook his head, watching Harry who was trying to grab James' glasses. "They caught him," he said at last. "Sirius. He was taken to Azkaban last night."

For a moment, James looked confused, and then his eyes widened and a look of panic flashed across his face. "No," he said urgently, "no, Moony, listen to me. It wasn't Padfoot – it was Peter. Shit." James' hand sprung up and through his hair, making it stick up even more than usual. "Shit, why didn't I think of that?"

Remus stared at him. "What do you mean?" he asked slowly. "Sirius was Secret Keeper."

"No, Moony, we switched, and it was the worst decision of my life." James closed his eyes, looking pained. "Sirius was the obvious choice, that was the whole point. We would tell everyone he was Secret Keeper, but it was actually Peter. That way, if Voldemort ever captured Sirius, he wouldn't be able to tell him anything. It was such a brilliant idea, Remus." He opened his eyes. "It was the worst bloody decision of my entire life."

Remus stared at James, his mind racing as he tried take in that information. Lily was dead, and here was James, alive, telling him that Sirius, their Secret Keeper, was innocent. That Sirius wasn't the Secret Keeper, but that Peter was. That Peter had betrayed them to Voldemort.

"Please, Remus, you need to believe me. We were going to tell you, yesterday in fact. Remus, Sirius can't go to Azkaban."

"Peter's missing," Remus whispered, the pieces clicking into place. "Sirius said he would kill him."

Harry started crying then, and James hurried to quiet him, bouncing him and making shushing noises. Remus watched them, feeling helpless. He could see in James' eyes that he was struggling to stay in control, to keep his sanity in the face of all this turmoil. James desperately needed help, help that he didn't know he needed, help that Remus, though he wished with all his heart, couldn't provide. Sirius would know what to do. James needed Sirius.

Remus stood, rubbing his eyes. Sleep would have to wait. "Stay here," he said quietly. "I'm going to the Ministry to see what I can do about Sirius."

James looked up, and he looked so pale and tired and miserable Remus was shaken. They'd always known James was the strong one, the one they could always rely on to become defensive on their behalf, who would stand by them no matter what. Now James looked on the verge of collapse, both physical and mental. The only time he'd looked like that before was when his parents were murdered by Death Eaters, and then Lily had been the one to help him, because Sirius was too upset to do anything himself. James needed Lily, but Lily wasn't here and the next best option was Sirius. Remus stood walked to the door and was about to leave when James asked quietly, "What are you going to say?"

Remus turned back, confused. "I'll tell them that there was a mistake, that Sirius is innocent. That you're alive."

James stood. "No. No one can know that I'm alive, Remus, please."

"Okay," Remus said slowly, lowering his hand from the doorknob. "Why not?"

"Because then Voldemort's going to come after us again, and I can't risk that. It's cowardly, and I know that, but I can't risk losing Harry."

Remus stared at James, confused for a moment, but then it dawned on him. "You don't know."

Now it was James' turn to look confused. "Don't know what?"

"Voldemort's dead. Something – something happened when he tried to kill Harry, and the spell backfired. He's gone, James."

What little color there was left in James' face faded, and he stumbled backwards, collapsing on the couch. Alarmed, Remus walked quickly to sit beside him. Never mind Sirius and Peter. James couldn't be alone right now. Carefully, Remus extracted Harry from James' tight grip as Harry started whimpering. Remus could tell that he was starting to become restless. James buried his face in hands, and Remus could feel him shaking.

"James – "

"No."

"Listen, just – "

"No, you listen. I can't do this, Remus." James' fists clenched in his hair, and his breaths were coming in ragged gasps. "Harry needed me and I wasn't there to help, to protect him. Sirius is going to Azkaban and it's my fault because I'm too bloody afraid to tell everyone I'm alive, I'm so, so afraid that I'll get Harry killed. Voldemort killed Lily, he tried to kill Harry, and he should have succeeded, Harry should be dead, Remus!" James was shouting now. "All this is my fault because I agreed to switch, I didn't trust you, I trusted Peter, and now Lily – Lily, I'm so sorry!" There were tears tracking down James' face, and Harry was crying now, too. Remus felt helpless, watching them cry, and knowing that the only thing keeping him from crying as well was the knowledge that James needed him to be strong right now. He had to be the one to hold the raft together.

After a minute of silence, James took a deep, shaky breath and released his hair, letting his hands fall limply to his lap. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I don't – I'm sorry, Remus. I shouldn't have shouted."

Remus shook his head, and James reached over to take Harry, who was still wailing. Remus stood, and made his way to the kitchen. "I'm making tea," he said over his shoulder. "I'll bring it out once it's done, and then we can discuss how we're going to get Sirius out of Azkaban."