James can't say much in a letter but repeatedly assures Sirius and Remus that he's fine and tells them it's better not to meet (because James will a hundred percent follow Padfoot and it'll be Black instead). Says he'll talk properly with them when he gets back to school.

He gets twelve letters back, one after the other in rapid succession.

Most of it is just scraps of paper cussing him out for being a trouble magnet and 'if the Dark Lord hurt you, I'll fiendfyre his hair off' or 'I'm going to handcuff myself to you' and a particularly threatening 'Moony is upset'.

James replies with more assurances and they send his invisibility cloak to him just in case and then after they learn his wand is gone, Sirius sends his own wand, which James sends back because no Sirius can't just use Remus' wand during class that's not how it works.

It's just back forth for hours, a stream of owls dive-bombing James' window with stream of conscious letters – most of them half a sentence followed by the end half in a follow up letter and it's an absolute headache trying to piece it all together.

And then Remus and Sirius start sending a letter each and complain when James doesn't reply to every single letter – even the one with a shitty drawing of an angrily frowning Padfoot. Apparently one of the letters was even (an illegal) portkey to take him to Hogwarts and was screened out by the mail wards.

James understands that they're freaking out and want to make sure James is okay and not being spirited away again but they can't keep this up for however long it takes for James to go back to school.

James calms them down eventually (after three straight hours of this chaos).

James finally sends off the very last owl who looks particularly disgruntled, with rumpled feathers like Sirius definitely yeeted it off a tower trying to make it go faster.

James sighs heavily but there's a smile on his face as he closes the window. He looks down, just a glance, and catches sight of someone hiding in the bushes. Not Black, but someone younger, clothes dirtied and torn, bloodied…

The man -boy- peeks out towards the first storey and then cautiously stands up.

James' eyes go wide and he tears his way across the house, leaping off the stairs halfway down and choosing the fastest route by vaulting out of the first floor window. James blinks, face to face with a boy that looks almost like a mirror. Both of them have messy black hair, the high Potter nose, soft cheekbones, slimmer frames and round glasses.

The other boy is taller though, just a bit, maybe older than James. With blazing green eyes.

"Dad?" the boy whispers.

"Harry?" James asks slowly.

"Oh! Uh, nothing, I'm Harry." The other laughs nervously and then stops. "Wait, what?"

"You're Harry, right?" James grabs Harry by the shoulders, smiles blindingly. "I heard about you! I'm your dad."

Harry stares. "Uh, yep. Yeah."

"Come inside!" James cheers happily, dragging Harry towards the house. "Come meet dad - I mean your granddad!"

James clambers back through the window, dragging Harry with him, and bursts into the dining room to present the hand he's holding to Fleamont. "Look, it's my long-lost twin!"

Fleamont puts down his sandwich and stands with a wide smile. "And you must be Harry!" He walks forward and drags Harry into a hug. "Oh, you're identical, the Potter blood is strong in you!"

Euphemia walks past the room, backs up and squeals in delight. "Look at you, muffin! Merlin, it's another James! Awwww so cuuute."

Harry has a death grip on James' hand, so confused. He has no idea what is happening right now.

After Harry is stuffed with food and sent to have a proper shower and get dressed in James' clothes, they end up in the cushy library couches again, Harry shoving himself right up against James with Euphemia still occasionally cooing in the background.

"Your Sirius, an older one at least, he killed Peter," James is explaining.

"No, he was framed for that," Harry says quickly.

"Um," James looks away. "My Peter. My friend, not, the other one."

Harry hesitates.

"It's okay," James says. "I know it's different for you."

"It must have been awful though," Harry says softly. "I - I'm sorry it happened. It shouldn't have."

Harry starts getting teary.

"Are you okay?" Fleamont asks softly and James hugs Harry from the side.

"Yeah," Harry rasps. "I just, had a long day. And you tell me everything, like I don't even have to prove myself, and I've been so lost before, I just - it's just a lot."

"I met you today and I already love you," James admits.

Harry hugs back tightly.

Euphemia barely restrains herself from taking a picture.

James starts from Peter passing away, skips the things that happened at Hogwarts and what Black did to him when he was kidnapped. James focuses on all the things Black told him about Harry, instead, all the nice things. Says only a small amount about Voldemort and his angle on using the Potters.

Harry's jaw clenches at that. "Does he know about the prophecy?"

"Let's never talk about that again," James says calmly. "So how did you get here, Harry? Through the Veil as well? Black had a lot to say about how shitty that was."

Harry seems like he's going to insist for a moment but then gets shy and pulls back. "I came from further in the future than my Sirius – than Black. I…came from after Voldemort killed me, it was a whole thing." Harry glances between them nervously.

"The Mist?" Fleamont wonders. "There are stories – we descend from Ignotious Peverell after all."

"I've heard the story, saw the wand and the ring as well," Harry admits. "At the end, Sirius didn't know this, but Voldemort has something that keeps him alive-"

"Don't!" Euphemia says quickly. "Don't, not while he's so focused on James. Harry, how good is your occlumency?"

"Pretty awful," Harry admits straight up.

"I can teach you!" James says excitedly. "I'm a great teacher, I'm great at everything. Ever. A super cool dad…"

James and Harry smile stupidly at each other for way too long and Fleamont needs to leave the room otherwise he's going to crack up laughing.

"Honey?" Euphemia reminds them.

Harry jolts. "Yes! I – sure. I'm pretty bad at it, but I'd love to learn. Anything. From you. Dad."

James clutches at his chest and struggles to breathe through all the love.