Title: Priori Incantatem
Rating: T
Summary: James Potter woke in St. Mungo's with a raging headache. Not only did he feel like he had flown headfirst into Hagrid, but he felt so incredibly exhausted. Learning that Lily died nearly 14 years ago, and that his son was currently fighting a war he's too young to understand, James knows that everything he knew about parenting is going to be challenged. Harry's too old for him, now. But it won't stop James from making sure that not only will Harry be kept safe, but that his life is the Order's priority.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters and settings mentioned in the story below that relate to Harry Potter. They are all the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling and Scholastic/Bloomsbury.
Warnings: Cursing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, mentioned character death, walking in on two characters having sex, alcoholism.
Spoilers: The following takes place after 4th year, with the beginning of this story set a few weeks before the events of Order of the Phoenix.
Author's Notes: Here's the next chapter, after a bit of deliberation on where exactly I wanted to go with this. But I hope you enjoy!
~ July 18th, 1995 ~
It took a week for James to manage to get out of the infirmary, as nearly fifty different diagnostic spells were used, and he was monitored to make sure he was healthy enough. On top of that, he had to get used to solid food again. It... well, it was more of a process than James figured it would take.
And then after he was taken from St. Mungo's, he was brought to where he would be staying for the time being, on lockdown unless on Ministry business. Grimmauld Place. The place Sirius had run away from all those years ago, to stay with James. And now James was just a prisoner as Sirius was.
It was not until mid-July that James was able to secure a meeting with the Wizengamot to present evidence that Sirius Black did not betray him and Lily, but Peter Pettigrew had instead. It made front page news, Sirius's acquittal. But the Ministry had left James' existence out of it. It had been a request that he made, not entirely sure if it would be able to be kept secret. He just didn't want Harry to find out about him before they could explain anything. He didn't want Harry to feel like he had kept his life a secret from him, he didn't want that kind of betrayal to interrupt their reunion.
Oddly enough, Molly had the worst the say about his son. Though she sang praises about how he was such a good, grounded boy, he was supposedly incredibly skinny and had horrible eye-sight.
"Gets that from you, too, mate," Sirius grinned across the table to James. But he was focused on the skinny part, that Molly had specifically described as malnourished.
Sirius's grin reminded James of old times. And somehow, James felt like he was in the seventies again, in his parent's house, with Sirius throwing thinly veiled insults about his parents to anyone that would listen. It was like time had slipped through his fingers. He couldn't even grasp how much he had missed.
The pictures and articles they showed him were spitting images of himself at that age. And his friends were even worse - in all the best ways. Ron Weasley reminded him too much of Peter, loyal and kind, but tempered and insecure. Yet, he trusted Ron in a way that he had always felt he couldn't trust Peter. It made him worry about Ron's friendship with his son - if he would be a threat to his son as Peter had turned out to be to him and Lily.
Hermione was bloody brilliant. There was no denying it. She had asked him endless questions about the coma he was in, asking him if he dreamt, what it felt like. A bit dizzing, but like Lily. Curious, needed to learn everything. The need to make up for the fact that she wasn't born in this world. Lily had studied herself hoarse more times than he cared to admit.
And then there was Ginevra - Ginny, he had learned, after calling her by the wrong name and nearly getting hexed for it. She was every bit the fire that the Weasley brood needed, and also reminded him of his flower. It was funny how time seemed to repeat itself, only a generation after.
A whole bloody generation born and bred from war for war. This was all supposed to be over. There was supposed to be no more war.
Harry was arriving in two weeks.
By broom. He wasn't sure if he should be impressed or worried.
He opted for worried.
The last he had seen Harry, his broom didn't go over eighteen inches off the ground - six inches if Lily was in the room.
They were going to Godric's Hollow today, however. Which made James incredibly on edge. It was all going to be real. The cottage, the grave. Everything would be there, visible proof.
He stared at the Polyjuice Remus had passed him. "How did you do it, mate?"
"Do what?" Remus asked carefully. He was used to the somber questions over the last few days. They had only grown in number the more James would read. Which he hadn't done much during the war... the first war. Bloody hell, there was too much to keep track of.
"Being alone? I was in the ruddy hospital, Lily... Peter. Sirius?" When James glanced up, Remus looked ashen.
"Dunno," Remus admitted. "Just... did."
"Sucks."
Remus gave him a half smile. "Sure did. But it was alright. Worked on myself a bit." James wasn't sure how well that turned out. He saw Remus sulking about more than fucking Sirius did. And Sirius did it plenty. And Sirius kept to himself most of the time.
They had all changed. And James... James didn't feel young anymore.
He felt like how Dumbledore looked.
"I don't think I can go, mate," James said quietly. "I think it's too soon."
"I thought you wanted to go?"
He did. He had. He didn't know. "Has Harry gone?"
"No." There seemed to be no room for discussion. Remus seemed to know where James was getting to. "It's too dangerous for him. If Death Eaters were to get ahold of him, we'd have nothing going for us."
James wasn't sure how the Polyjuice vial ended smashed against the wall, but it did. Remus didn't seem surprised, instead staring at James calmly as James stood in the middle of the kitchen, panting.
"He's not a bloody bargaining chip," James spat. "He's my bloody son, and I don't care what anyone fucking says, but he's my son first. Not some bloody saviour. Not some chosen one. She died for him. She bloody died so he could live. Don't you think he should at least get a chance to see her grave - to bloody meet her for the first time in his life? That he can ruddy fucking bloody shit remember?"
Words were just kind of spewing out at that point. He just felt so angry.
"We know he's not a bargaining chip, Prongs," Sirius spoke up. James hadn't even realize he was in the room. James took a deep breath, glancing to the door, seeing Sirius in a bath robe with his arms crossed. He dressed entirely too comfortably, but was always looking as uncomfortable as possible in them. "But too many people have died for him. He doesn't need to think anymore will die for him by venturing out."
Cedric. Lily. Frank and Alice were bloody vegetables.
"Sorry," James said quietly. "Don't know what came over me."
"It's... It's common, in your situation," Remus said quietly. "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." James had heard of it. He exhaled and sank down onto the stool he had abandoned, his hands running through his unruly hair. "We'll go another day, if you're not ready." Remus's voice was oddly soothing. And familiar. James listened to him continue. "I'll get a calming draught and we can just have a lie in."
"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "And I'll get Kreacher down here and away from my mother's ruddy portrait to clean up this mess."
"I'll get it," James sighed. He rubbed his face with his hands, weirdly soft from the years he had spent just laying in bed. Gone were the callouses from dueling and quidditch. Ruddy hell, he just wanted to fly again. "And then I'm going to head up to bed. I ... I feel exhausted."
"The mediwitch said that would happen," Remus said after a moment of silence. James knew that he and Sirius had made eye contact and agreed on something. He just didn't have the energy to call them out on it. "I'll wake you up when supper's ready, so you don't miss any meals. The more food you get in you the better you'll feel."
"You sound like Molly now." Remus couldn't help but smirk at that. Molly had shoved so much food down James' throat, that Remus had to physically intervene. It had only earned Remus a third serving, on top of his already overloading second serving.
"We'll go later," Sirius reiterated. "With Harry. You're right, it's time he's gone too. We'll see what we can do."
James made for the broken glass and muddy potion that was coating the wall, but Remus grabbed his arm. "Leave it, we'll get it."
He still felt bloody awful for it. "'sides, mate, if there's anyone you need to ask about Polyjuice potions, it might be something to ask your son," Sirius grinned. James glanced at him, confused. "Ruddy great story, I'll tell you." As if something occurred to him, he said as an afterthought, "Don't ask Hermione though. I made that mistake and nearly lost an eye for it."
"Have you left the house at all these last few weeks?" James asked. He was free. Yet, James felt he had never seen more of Sirius than he had these last few days - weeks? He was not even sure how long he had been awake.
His son would have a birthday soon - his fifteenth. James felt so incredibly old, and far away.
Sirius gave a slow shrug. "Waiting for the news to die down in the papers, then it'll be more meaningful."
"Get some rest, James," Remus said gently. "I'll talk to the Order about having Harry go with you to Godric's Hollow." James just nodded mutely, and ran his hands through his hair, before he hauled himself out the door and up the stairs.