James found himself at Hagrids. He had raced around the grounds, as if running could leave his grief behind him. When he had a stitch in his side and was completely worn out, Hagrids had only been a few paces away. So he knocked on the door and was nearly crushed by a desolate Hagrid. He'd clearly heard the news, and Fang (the third) was whining, curled up under the kitchen table. James had to dart under Hagrids arm before he would have been crushed, and sat on the armchair.

"You've heard then," James said hollowly.

"I can' understand it," Hagrid said with a very large sniff as he shut the door. "Ter survive all tha' and then end up like… I don't know James. It just don' seem fair."

"It's not," James said, wishing he could turn the clock back. He wanted to cry but his eyes didn't seem to agree with him. He barely felt sad, he just felt empty. Like there was this space where his father used to be. It seemed unreal that he was gone. Like he could walk around the corner at any moment. "Who did it Hagrid? Who killed him?"

"I don' know," he said, pouring himself a large tot of brandy. "Do yer want some tea?"

"No thanks," James said. Hagrid took a fortifying gulp and then sighed. "Do you think…" James started. Then he pressed on regardless. "Do you think Voldemort's back?"

"No," Hagrid said. "He can't be back. He's dead, an' I know that fer a fact."

"But who else could get into the ministry… kill him and then get back out without being caught?" James's voice wavered on the word kill, but he had carried on bravely.

"I don' know," Hagrid said, before blowing his nose. "It won't be a muggle. Muggle's can' get in. Even accidentally, yer know?

"Fine then," James said, almost desperately. "Why stab him then? It's so… much harder that casting a curse isn't it?" he finished.

"Killin's never easy unless yer don' have a soul," Hagrid said darkly. He was about to say something else but he never got that far. There was a hammering on the front door.

"James! Are you in there?" It was Fred. Hagrid opened the door and he came in, face pale. "James, I'm so sorry," he said, shaking his head. "Your mum's in the headmistresses office. They sent me to find you."

"Right," James said. He got up and gave himself a shake. This felt surreal. Then he followed Fred back up to the castle.

James didn't remember getting back to the castle. He didn't remember how he got home to 12 Grimmauld place. He did remember his mothers face, and wished he couldn't. She was so grief stricken it was hard to watch, her face red, blotchy and tear stained as she organised the funeral. James couldn't believe it. It had barely been a week and he was back at home. In his mind he thought Albus and Lily would be bombarding him with questions about Hogwarts. But he'd never thought he'd be coming home to this. Over the next few days people kept visiting the house with their condolences, some James recognised, but most he didn't. Their house soon mirrored a flower shop. Ginny actually got so annoyed by one bunch of pansies that kept playing sad violin solos every time someone walked passed them that she burned them, pointing her wand at the smouldering embers in frustration.

Ginny had arranged for the funeral to be held at Godric's hollow, because it felt right that Harry would be with his parents, who he didn't even remember in life. The funeral would be private. Only family, and a few close friends. No one from the Ministry was invited. And no journalists either. There had been a public outpouring of grief in the Daily Prophet, but James didn't read it. It would all be meaningless anyway. A colourful and in parts untruthful tale about how the famous Harry Potter vanquished the most evil wizard of all time. Just to end up with a knife in his chest. Apparently ministry officials were looking for his murderer, but no luck yet.

The night before the funeral James couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned for what felt like hours. Then his bedroom door opened a crack. "You awake?" Lily whispered.

"Yes," James said, switching the light on. "I don't feel like sleeping."

"Can you tell me about Hogwarts?" Lily asked, sitting on the end of her brothers bed.

"What?"

"I know it's sad about dad," she said. "I know that, but I want to know about school. I want to talk about something normal. I don't want to think about dad… dying." Her bottom lip wobbled slightly.

"Okay," James said for his little sister. "I'll tell you about the Hufflepuff common room. Dad never went there."

"Okay," Lily said with a smile. "Good." And James started to tell her about life in Hufflepuff. He even trusted her with the password, thinking that it would probably have changed by the time Lily got to Hogwarts anyway. He liked seeing his sister smile.

Thank you for the reviews. Really means a lot. Hope this lives up to expectations.