The next time Harry sneaks into Hogwarts, he sends an owl first and even brings some nice treats Fleamont packed.

James claps his hands together, sitting cross-legged in front of Harry with their knees touching, the Room of Requirement settled into a nice homey atmosphere with thick, soft carpets. "Okay, occlumency! So to start, I'll show you mine. I'll use legilimency on you and then pull you into my head."

"You know how to do that?"

"A bit - not very well to be honest but - okay bad. Horrible. Legilimency is just one of those things all purebloods are taught and I can scrape by." James shrugs.

"So Purebloods just learn everything then."

"Half of it's trash," James reassures him. "Rubbish like how to curtsey properly, how to hold your wand, what accent you're allowed."

"Accent-?"

"Okay, look into my eyes~" James sing-songs.

Harry braces for pain but feels a tap tap-tap tap!

"Come in?" Harry offers.

James sniggers and then they're both pulled into James' head.

Harry blinks and he's in a hallway - not Hogwarts, not Potter Manor but with all sorts of paintings and wallpaper, the walls made of wood or stone or plaster, it all shifts and makes Harry dizzy if he stares at it for too long.

"This way!" James calls and waves from down the hall. "Let me show you."

They spend the next half an hour running through a maze of hallways and secret tunnels and changing rooms that shift around every time a door is opened or shut, even talking portraits that point them in the wrong direction with such charisma and earnestness that Harry believes them even when James whispers they're lying.

And that's only the defences - James' memories are actually a level deeper, the cracks lining the walls and around the picture frames - deceptively hidden in plain sight.

They come out of it a bit lightheaded, still sitting upright except now with an added Sirius lying down just off to the side and Remus sitting on the other, watching the two Potters with a half-hearted curiosity.

"Oh," Harry says in shock. "Hi?"

"'Sup," Sirius drawls. "So I'm your favourite uncle, right?"

"How dare you," Remus cuts in. "Actually no, you can be an uncle, I'll be the godfather."

"Godparents!" Sirius gasps because he totally forgot that was a thing, slapping James' leg repeatedly. "Jamie, I'm the godfather, right?"

James thinks hard for a moment. "I probably would have made you do scissors, paper, rock."

"Sirius won," Harry admits.

"Fuck yeah, I did!" Sirius crows.

Remus huffs with an eye roll. "Whatever, I'll get the next one. What were you two doing anyway?"

"Occlumency practice," James says with a shrug, reaching out to pet Sirius' hair. "So that's it, Harry. You start building and it settles into place after a while – just about repetition until it becomes a reaction."

"It's very different from what I was taught," Harry admits. "Hurt a lot less too."

Sirius rears up. "Who dares hurt my godson?!"

"Oh, you were doing it the other way," James muses. "I showed you conscious occlumency - which you pull up when you need it. The other dude probably thought you unconscious occlumency that you kind of leave running in the background even when you sleep and stuff. That's a bit extreme."

"I probably needed it," Harry grumbles. "But yeah, okay, how do I start?"

"Think of something you want -literally anything- and picture it."

"Quidditch?" Harry says immediately because that's just the easiest to think of for him.

James and Sirius high-five because damn straight Harry didn't escape quidditch. Remus drags a hand down his face. It's fine, it's fine, Remus gets the next baby.

"Okay, so a quidditch pitch," James agrees. "Do you want offensive? I'm passive, and people just get lost, but if it's quidditch you could do like bludgers flying everywhere."

"And snitches," Harry says excitedly, getting into it. "But too many snitches!"

"Exactly!" James says. "Where are you putting your memories? In the crowd? A sublevel inside the goal hoops?"

"In the house banners hanging from the seating stands," Harry announces.

"That's so mean, I love it," James laughs. "Basically you just construct it in your mind and after you pull it up enough times -just randomly do it during the day- you'll put enough magic into it that it becomes locked in. Of course that's the simple explanation though."

Harry nods. "Did you want...in return I can show you guys the patronus charm?" he asks hesitantly. "You get extra points in defence if you show off with it."

"I'm always in need of extra points," Sirius admits.

"Not in return though," James insists. "I would have showed you anyway." He taps his fingers together with a bright smile. "I think I like teaching you things."

"You can teach me anything," Harry gushes immediately.

Remus looks between the two Potters. "Oh, so you're just as bad as James is. Wonderful."

Harry clears his throat awkwardly and doesn't really know what to say. Harry pulls out his wand and demonstrates the charm, cold blue mist swirling out until a large stag appears, head high and alert for danger.

"Is that...me?" James asks, looking up at the stag. They have a short staring competition.

"Bullshit it's you," Sirius scoffs. "Look at this majestic being, I bet he doesn't trip over tree roots half as much as you do."

James turns on Sirius in outrage. "I trip so much because you shove me!"

Harry dispels the patronus. "It is Prongs," he admits, not quite looking James in the eye. "I've never seen your deer form properly though, so I guess it's just what I think you look like."

"I can show you," James says immediately, ready to flaunt his skills in front of his son. He gets up to his knees before he pauses. "Ah - no, I mean. I'm not...groomed properly." He shoots a glare at Remus. "Moony bites my antlers, they're chipped."

"I don't care," Harry says quickly. "I just...want to see. Because I think Prongs is very handsome."

Remus and Sirius roll their eyes but it works and James puffs up immediately. He shakes apart and Harry's eyes widen as Prongs trots around in a circle and strikes a pose with his head high, trying to mimic the graceful majesty of the patronus.

Padfoot full-body tackles Prongs around the back legs and they go down hard.

James and Sirius have spent every history class since third gear trying their hardest to break Remus because Merlin knows they're not learning anything with Binns. That's a lot of time actually, so now they've descended into dick jokes and toilet humour.

Remus sits at the desk writing down Binns' droning words while Sirius is spread out the desk in front, head propped up on a hand, one knee raised. James sits beside Remus, far too close, staring intently at the side of his face.

"Hey Jamie?"

"Yeah Siri?"

"What's that dude in seventh year that's dating Smith?" Sirius sighs. "Always forget his name. Oh, yeah, Long-Thighs McButtcheeks."

"Longbottom."

"That's what I said."

.

"Hey Siri?"

"Yeah Jamie?"

"Play Despacito."

.

"Hey Jamie?"

"Yeah Siri?"

"Fuck me daddy."

Remus, much to his own shame, almost smiles at that.

.

Ten minutes before class ends James scrambles out of his seat and makes a sprint for it, barrelling down the corridors. Sirius sits up in confusion because they didn't plan that out.

Five minutes later, Remus looks up to see Prongs the motherfucking deer zoom past the window on a broomstick and laughs so hard he spills his ink all over his notes.

During the OWLS, James tries twice and finally manages a more solid mist for his Patronus – which snaps into a corporeal, icy blue when James realises what his animal is and the joy hits but it hurts.

Wormtail ghosts through the air, scampering cutely as he patrols around. When he finds no dementor he runs back to James and sits up, little front paws raised adorably.

The examiner is saying something, complementing James, but he's just staring at Wormtail with an elated smile.

"Hey," James whispers. "Handsomest rat I've ever seen."

Wormtail seems to preen exaggeratedly like Peter used to.