Sorry for taking so long with this new chapter but writer's block for this story just would not let me go! But I'm still trying because I don't want to disappoint my readers so here it is. *runs and hides* I think I have a better idea of what I want the characters to say in a general sense, it's the actually getting them to say it is the problem. Either way, read on!

Last chapter- He probably saw from my face that I was feeling guilty because in the very next breath he tells me not to feel bad.

"That's life you know? We live and we die, what we do with the time in between is just a bonus. And I plan on enjoying every minute of it."

Just then the waiter brings our food and further conversation is suspended as we inhale our foods as though we'd just been released from a week of eating nothing but Hagrid's cooking. I shudder just imagining such torture.

Chapter 4- Life went on without you...

We finish eating our meal in amicable silence and as the waiter clears away our empty plates and replaces it with our desserts. This we eat with a bit more grace.

"You seemed to have enjoyed that meal" I begin "what's your favourite food?"

His eyes glaze over for a bit as if he's imagining the very dish.

"Mum makes this unbelievable pumpkin pie. But not the traditional kind this one always has some secret ingredient. She changes it from time to time and sometimes, halfway through the slice it would change flavours on you. I don't know how she did it but...it's amazing."

"So I take it that you don't know what it's made of?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea. Too bad though because it's an amazing dish that ought to be put into some Hall of Fame or something."

I laugh at that but I really do wish he had the recipe, it would have been a nice gift for Harry.

"I've heard you're great at Potions. Is that your favourite subject or is that just because it comes easily to you?"

"Potions is my passion. If there was some way for me to have Potions all day every day I would be happy. Can I ask you a question about my...son?"

"Sure, I guess. Why not? What do you want to know?"

"Is he any good at Potions? Did he take after me? What's his favourite subject?"

"He excels at DDA but he's good at Potions. He didn't like it much because of the Professor though." If you only knew who that was you'd understand why...

"What was it like growing up, before Hogwarts I mean?"

"I got into all the typical binds growing up. I broke every window in the house at least once either through accidental magic or from one form of mischief or another. I had to find ways to entertain myself as an only child. That meant that I got into more trouble than a child who had grown up with siblings. I mean do you know hard it is to play with a Frisbee alone? Damn near impossible. But I did it. Broke a lot of windows that way though. Haha. I would get bored easily though. But Mum and Dad did everything they could to make it better for me. They would invite the neighbourhood kids over, my cousins, children of their colleagues. Coming to Hogwarts and meeting the rest of the Marauders- that's-"

"Your friends, I know."

"Oh, right. Well, as I was saying, meeting the Marauders made the hols much more bearable you know? I had people to hang out with now, no more depending solely on my imagination for entertainment."

"Wow. So how did you guys become friends? Which one would you turn to for advice? To help you wind down? Which one is most like you?" Now that I had begun to ask questions I couldn't bring myself to stop. I was so intrigued with learning more about him that my mouth takes full control over good sense. If I don't back off a bit he'll start to think I'm some crazy fangirl that just can't wait to find out all about her hero.

"Well my absolute best mate is without a doubt Sirius. I can count on him to cheer me up no matter what but he's not always a goof ball. He can be so serious at times, at the most important times no less. But for advice I think Lupin is number one. Wormt- I mean Peter is the one friend that I feel like I have to look out for you know. He's so timid that we took him under our patronage and he's finally beginning to come out of his shell."

My teeth clench at the fond way he is speaking of that spineless traitorous bastard but I reign myself in, not wanting to sway his view of his 'friend'.

"And which do you think is most like you?"

"Sirius of course. Remus is a tad too serious to be like me but Sirius, he's my equal in almost every respect." The smile that lights his face as he thinks of his friend warms my heart. Seeing the love he has for his friend first hand is something I never thought I would have had the opportunity to, but yet, here I am.

"When you're not pulling pranks or playing Quidditch what do you do? I'm sorry if this is beginning to sound like an interview but I just want to know so much."

"No problem. I- this is something that no one knows- I write. It's freeing. It doesn't matter the medium as long as I get the words out and onto parchment...the release that I get from that is second only to the rush of the wind past my broom."

"Can I...can I hear something that you've written?"

"Right now? I can't think of anything on the spot but before the night is over I promise I'll have something to say."

I acquiesce because I know that performing under pressure never lends itself to true creativity.

"Is there anything you want to ask me? I've been asking you questions non-stop for the past however long and you've been kind enough to answer. The least I can do is offer you a moment to do the same."

He sits there and adopts a contemplative look on his face and I wait patiently for him to organise his thoughts.

I'm not sure how much time passes before he speaks but when he does I'm shocked. It was not a question I was expecting him to have for me.

"Why didn't you choose my son?"

"What? I...I don't think I understand what you mean..." To say that I was confused would be an understatement and I hope that he isn't asking me what I think he's asking me.

"I mean, why isn't it my son that you're getting married to. Why did you chose his best friend over him?" Yeah, that's what I thought he was asking but I didn't want to believe it. How do you answer a question like that?

"Well um that's a difficult question to answer truth be told. I mean how do I put into words that Ron completes me, that despite the fact that he does things that can irritate me like no other, he's the only one that's ever been able to get under my skin. Your son, he's always been just a friend. He treats me with the utmost respect and if I had to choose anyone other than Ron, he would be the most logical choice."

"And you say he's happy, with the one he's chosen?"

"Yes. He couldn't be happier. And his wife, no one could be more elated that he chose her than she is. She's had a crush on him ever since she was a little girl, before she even knew who he was. His name was legend in the Wizarding World long before- well his name was, still is, legend in the Wizarding World."

"Does he know how much- I wish- I just- I'm glad he has people like you in his life."

"Thank you. What is it you were going to ask me before you changed your mind?"

He hesitates for a second before he resolves in his mind to answer me.

"I was wondering if he knows, you know, while he was growing up how much we would have loved him if we were to grow old. How old was he when we died? Could you tell me that or is that divulging too much information?"

"I'm afraid that might be too much for you. I mean, I don't want you to be paranoid about it you know, constantly wondering if today is the day you'll die. Isn't knowing that you'll die while he's a child enough?"

"No, it's not actually. If you could tell me, without having to worry about repercussions, would you tell me?"

"Are you sure you want to know? This isn't like me telling you the perfect blend of ingredients to make some illegal potion or something. Once I tell you this that's it, you know it. I may not be around to obliviate you if it becomes too much."

"Yes, I'm sure. Tell me. Does he at least start Hogwarts before we die?"

"No. He doesn't. In fact he was really young when you two were killed. I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this but he was a little over one year old. I won't tell you the circumstances of the death, you know the who, what, when, where and why. Well you probably know the why."

"He was only one year old? My God, we missed out all of his life!"

"You did. But I promise you he was never alone since that day."

"Thank you for telling me."

"I wish I didn't have to. I just realised that I didn't answer the first part of your question. Yes he knows that you two loved him. He never doubted that for a minute."

"Good."

The waiter comes back with the check and clears away the empty dishes from our dessert. As I am about to pick it up to see how much the meal came up to James snatches it from the table, opens the folder and then drops the corresponding coins onto the table.

"I would have paid you know. It was my idea to come eat after all" I say to him but the look that he sends my way shuts me up right away. It's as if by even suggesting that I would pay for the meal with him was hurtful to his ego and went against everything he's ever learnt about what it is to be a man. And it probably does.

We leave the table but I don't feel as though I've found out everything that I wanted to know just yet and it seems he isn't ready to leave either so we walk through the deserted village until we find a comfortable spot to stop and talk some more.

I want to try to wrap this story up soon. I think it's dragging on too long. Right? I have a few things I want to happen first before the end though so I won't leave it here but I'll warn you from now, THE END IS NEAR! I'm not sure how I feel about that though. I've been so vested in this story that not writing it will be kind of a shock but to have it go on for much longer would be inexcusable.