Oh, by the way, I don't own Harry Potter.
A couple of hours later, everyone was hanging around in the kitchen, driving themselves mad with worry when Harry and Arthur entered with huge smiles. "Cleared of all charges!" Harry cried.
Lily let out an undignified sound of relief and joy and hugged him. James clapped him on the back, Sirius shook his hand.
"I knew it!" yelled Ron, punching the air. "You always get away with stuff!"
"They were bound to clear you," said Hermione, "There was no case against you, none at all."
"Everyone seems very relieved though, considering they all knew I was going to get off," Harry said, smiling.
Fred, George, and Ginny were doing some kind of victory war dance, chanting "He got off, he got off, he got off!" James rather felt like joining in but restrained himself.
"That's enough," shouted Arthur, "Listen," he said to the adults, "Lucius Malfoy was at the ministry…"
"What?" Sirius demanded.
"He got off, he got off, he got off!"
"Be quiet, you three! Yes, we saw him talking to Fudge on level nine, and then they went up to Fudge's office together. Dumbledore ought to know."
"Absolutely," Sirius said, "We'll tell him, don't worry."
Arthur left to go back to work, the twins and Ginny continued chanting, and the rest of them sat down for lunch. Cheerful conversation swelled around them, as everyone gloated about Harry's victory.
The only damper was when James noticed Harry clap his hand to his scar. He wasn't close enough to overhear his son's conversation with his friends, but he watched them with narrowed eyes.
Harry's scar was still hurting. Well, it was to be expected, he supposed. Voldemort was back; the connection couldn't help but be stronger. Still, James couldn't help but worry. As Snape had said, how long did they have before Voldemort realized the connection existed?
The next couple of weeks before term started passed quickly, but James couldn't help but notice the black mood of his best friend. He knew what the problem was. Soon, Harry and the others would be going back to school. Without their children there, the Weasley's and the Potter's would be returning to their own homes. Lily and James had discussed remaining in Grimmauld Place anyway but decided that they couldn't risk it. It had been Sirius himself who had convinced them otherwise.
Being the parents of one of the Ministry's most hated persons at the moment, meant it was entirely possible they were being watched or even followed. They had spread the rumor that they were staying with friends during the summer to explain why their house was empty, but it would be suspicious to stay longer. It wouldn't take much for the Ministry to fire James, which was out of the question. First of all, it was an ideal place for him to be for the Order, and secondly, James was pretty sure he'd go crazy with nothing to do all day. With Malfoy and other Death Eaters parading around the Ministry, there was also the possibility that they would find a way to follow him in an attempt to find HQ. The best they could do would be to find the general area, but that would be bad enough. All of these reasons were very logical and important. That didn't mean James had to like it.
Meanwhile, prefect badges arrived. Hermione was one, of course, and Ron was the other one, which kind of came as a surprise. They had a party afterwards during which the Marauders, Lily, and Tonks regaled the kids with stories about why they had or hadn't gotten prefects badges in their years at Hogwarts. James had thought he had caught sight of the twins and Mundungus crouched in a corner probably doing something dubious, but they weren't there the next time he looked, so maybe he imagined it. Yeah right. Moody was showing around an old photograph of the original Order of Pheonix. That brought back a lot of memories, some of them good, most of them not so good.
In the middle of examining the photo, Remus suddenly turned toward the stairs. "Somethings happening," he said, quietly and started upstairs. Sirius and James hurried after him, Moody stumping along behind. James could hear the faint sound of shouts, now.
There was Harry standing in the drawing room door, and as James followed his friends in, he saw Harry's body lying dead on the floor. His stomach turned to ice. For the briefest possible seconds, he didn't understand what was going on; Harry was standing in the doorway, but he was also dead on the floor, and... a moon hung in the air, then disappeared with a crack as Remus disposed of the boggart.
A boggart. That made sense. Pulling himself together, James looked around the room. Remus was comforting Molly, who was sobbing. Apparently, the boggart had been taking the form of different members of her family before running out and moving on to the next closest thing; Harry. James was more worried about Sirius, who was staring at the floor where Harry's body lay with a peculiar expression on his face.
"Don't worry about Percy," Sirius said, suddenly, tearing his eyes from the floor. Apparently, he had been paying better attention to the conversation than James had been. "He'll come around. It's only a matter of time before Voldemort comes out of hiding, and when he does, the whole ministry will be begging us to forgive them. And I'm not sure I'll be accepting their apology," he added, bitterly.
"As for who's going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur die," Remus continued, "What do you think we'd do, let them starve?"
Molly smiled, wiping at her eyes, "Being silly," she said. Remus took Molly to get a strong cup of tea, Moody returned to the party, and Harry went up to bed. James, keeping a sharp eye on Sirius, saw him sneak off to his own bedroom and followed. He caught the door before it shut and entered.
James couldn't help but smile when he saw Sirius' room. It was entirely draped with Gryffindor colors, motorcycle pictures, and a few photos of muggle girls. On one wall was a picture of the Marauders back in their Hogwarts years before death, misunderstanding, and betrayal had aged them; torn them apart. Everything had seemed so simple back then. Good was good, bad was bad, and the four of them could be relied upon unreservedly. Things were more complicated now.
Case in point, his thirty-five-going-on-fifty best friend had taken a bottle of firewhiskey from a shelf and taken a swig straight from the bottle. "You know, if it's a drink you want, there are plenty downstairs," he said, in a teasing tone of voice. There was nothing remotely funny about this situation. James had suspected Sirius might have found comfort in alcohol too much to be healthy since returning to his parent's house. The only alcohol at the party was butterbeer and that wasn't strong.
Sirius turned around, and the look in his eyes made James' heart twist. The fact that they were all back together now did not change that his friend, his brother, had been languishing in Azkaban for thirteen years. Every single one of those years was reflected in Sirius' eyes.
James swallowed. "Sirius, mate, you know that wasn't Harry."
Sirius nodded and made a jerky movement as if going to take another drink before thinking better of it. "It wasn't Harry that I thought of," he said, hoarsely.
James didn't understand at first. Then, he did.
Oh. Oh.
He recognized the expression on Sirius' face now. He had caught it on his friend often, sometimes even on Remus, when they thought he wasn't looking. An expression that said they were afraid he would disappear if they looked away; that spoke of years of loneliness and grief; the look of men who had been given a miracle and were afraid it would be taken away. He did not think he could understand what his friends went through when they thought he and Lily were dead, without even each other to turn to.
"Sirius," he breathed, not at all sure what to say, "Padfoot."
"You were dead, James," Sirius burst out harshly. "You looked dead, and I was there! I was... was too late. I found your body." His voice cracked. "I saw it so often in Azkaban," he whispered. "And it was all my bloody fault!" he shouted, throwing the bottle of firewhiskey at the wall where it shattered. James flinched. "I just hoped I'd never have to see that again," he whispered, passing a shaking hand over his eyes.
James crossed over to him before he could think and grabbed Sirius roughly by the front of his shirt with both hands, forcing him to look at him. "Sirius," he said, fiercely, "What happened to me and Lily was not. Your. Fault!" Sirius opened his mouth to protest, and James shook him slightly. "No," he growled, "You listen to me. That was Peter's fault. Hell, it was Voldemort's fault. It was not yours."
James let go of Sirius' shirt only to wrap his arms tightly around him; to embrace him as if he would never let go. "I'm here, Sirius," he chocked out, "We're here. We survived, and I'm not going to leave you. 'Not one Death Eater's going to have a row at us so long as we're together,' remember?" Sirius trembled in his arms but hugged him just as tight. And if they clung to each other for a long while afterwards, if maybe there were tears involved, no one outside of the room need know about it.
There's a slight hint in here to the fan theory that Remus has better hearing and senses due to being a werewolf. Although I typically don't like assigning him non-canonical werewolf traits (like the silver thing), I decided I was alright with giving him slightly sharper senses.
"Not one Death Eater's going to have a row at us so long as we're together" is a quote from a fan film. I think it's Severus Snape and the Marauders, but I'm not sure. The only reason I remember it is because it's in so many Marauders fan videos.