Better Late Than Never

Getting Harry to sleep without Lily was a task and a half for James, and he nearly collapsed onto the bed when Harry’s eyes fluttered closed and stayed that way. Wilted, he stood and watched the slow, even rises and falls of his son’s chest. The scar on Harry’s forehead was less irritated now that the nurses at St. Mungo’s had dealt with it, but no one knew how to get rid of it.

Dumbledore had guessed that it was an effect of Voldemort hitting Harry with the Killing Curse, and Dumbledore usually guessed correctly.

“You look positively knackered.” Lily’s voice came from the doorway and all the tension pent up in James’ shoulders melted away. Before, when they were working for the Order, he felt like this all the time. Like his heart was a quaffle held in the arms of someone who had never played Quidditch before and was two seconds from launching it into a goal post. It only got worse when Lily was on a separate mission and everything was out of his control.

His anxiety tripled, quadrupled, quintupled when they found out about Harry. James was overjoyed about having a child, one of his very own that he could teach to play Quidditch and carry on the family name, but he was also terrified. A glance from Lily would have told him that she was, too.

So when he turned around to look at her, her fiery red hair falling limply over her shoulders and exhaustion glazing her living eyes, he smiled. “Trying to say something about my looks, Potter?” She came closer and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

Lily snorted. “You’ve been looking a bit lackluster as of late.” At James’ look of mock indignation, she revised her statement. “I say this with absolute love.”

James grinned. “Nice to know where I stand with you, love.”

They fell into silence, both watching their son sleep in a bed that was far too large and not their own. It would be a little while before they could go back to their home, and for the time being, neither of them was sure if they actually wanted to.

James knew that Lily had just returned from the Ministry, and as bent as he was that he wasn’t the one to go see Sirius himself, he wanted so badly to ask her how it went. His hopes were high that it went well, only because she didn’t have a look of absolute devastation on her face. He knew what Lily looked like when she had something bad to tell him, and this was not it.

He opened his mouth but Lily beat him to it. “He’s going to be given a trial.”

A trial? A trial? James thought he was going to explode. He took one look at sleeping Harry and left the room, taking care not to stomp down the hall. Lily followed close after him.

They shut themselves in a room a little ways away. It was dusty and hardly used, the flooring chipped and wooden with matching chipped and wooden furniture. Everything seemed to come in various shades of gray and black and brown. A small bed was pushed against one wall, and when James sat down it released decades of dust. He coughed and waved away the dust cloud with his hand. Lily remained standing on the opposite room and he hated Peter right then, for everything. For nearly getting his entire family killed, for betraying Sirius, for forcing this distance between him and Lily when they needed each other the most.

“A trial?” James said aloud, fighting to keep his voice controlled. It was not Lily’s fault. He was not going to shoot the messenger.

“Yes, James, a trial.” James knew perfectly well that Lily would not hesitate to put him in his place if it was necessary.

“But he’s innocent.” James ran his hands through his hair repeatedly, wondering how long it would take for dark hair to start falling out in tufts.

“We know that, but how many other people do? Merlin, James, dozens of people saw him try to curse Peter into the ground. Who beyond you four and me know that Peter is an unregistered Animagus?” Hardly anyone, and James knew that. There were so many things he knew yet he still felt like he knew nothing at all.

He clasped his hands together, resting them on his lips. He needed to think. He needed to control his temper. There was a way to clear Sirius’ name, and he just needed to find it.

“What did the Minister for Magic say?” James asked quietly, anger quelled, the cogs turning in his head.

“To find Peter.” Lily watched him carefully as his head shot up, looking for any signs that her husband might decide to charge off and look for Peter on his own. He was a bit hot headed that way. “It’s our best shot to convince a jury of Sirius’ innocence. Proving that Peter faked his death and pinned it all on Sirius coupled with the fact that Peter was our Secret Keeper, and he’s dead in the water.” Lily winced, unaccustomed to having to think of someone she once held in high respect in that manner.

“No one other than the Order knows we’re alive,” James added. “For all… he knows, we’re dead, Padfoot is getting thrown into Azkaban, and Moony is half mad with grief.” James’ voice grew thick, clogged up with sadness and the thought of what might’ve become of them. His family and the Marauders, they were almost synonymous. If someone had told him back in fourth or fifth year that after Hogwarts he would have been staging a man hunt for one of his best friends to prove the innocence of the another… well, he would have thought they were taking the piss out of him.

He couldn’t bear to think of the Marauders as the tragedy they almost were. The tragedy they’d become.

“How was Padfoot?” James asked hesitantly. He genuinely, really wanted to know, but he also didn’t. He wanted to go back to when things had been good. Happy.

Lily’s face softened and she came closer to him, sitting beside him on the dusty bed.

“Not well. He’s all bruised and cut and bloodied. Remus and I spoke to him and he thought he was hallucinating. Thinks we’re dead and it’s all his fault.” She rubbed soothing circles on James’ back as his head fell into his hands. “But he’ll get better. You know he will.” Lily’s calm voice dropped to a murmur. “We all will.”

“I should’ve gone,” he mumbled, “I should’ve gone with you. I should’ve been the first to see him.”

“Should’ves aren’t going to do you any good right now. If it helps, Sirius asked us if we thought he could still model for Witch Weekly.” Lily laughed softly. “The Minister said we can go see him tomorrow after hours. Maybe he’ll believe us when we’re all in front of him. I’d like to think that we could all do with some happiness.” Pressing her forehead against his, Lily kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. James responded immediately and pulled her closer by the waist. Their lips fit together in a way that still managed to amaze James. Warm and breathless, he still marveled at the fact that it was Lily making him warm and breathless. With her, he still felt like a nervous seventh year.

One look at the blush staining her cheeks and he knew it was mutual, and that he hadn’t taken a hit in the head from a bludger and fallen into a very long coma.

When they finally pulled apart, they grinned at each other weakly. No matter what else went wrong, they would always be James and Lily. They would always have each other.

He sat up, straightening out his spine. He had a goal, now. Something to work toward. He didn’t have to stay cooped up in a little cottage anymore, helpless and useless.

He, Lily, and Harry were going to see Sirius and then the remaining Marauders would decide what to do about Peter. The three of them put together could find him, James had no doubt. Peter was smarter than he was given credit for. They knew how Peter thought, they could predict his moves before he made them and catch him like the rat he is. Peter had been, after all, a Marauder. He was reading straight out of a book they had written together.

James’ attention was diverted when he heard Harry’s soft whimpers drift down the hall. His confidence wavered. For all they thought they knew Peter, they never saw his betrayal coming.

Maybe they hadn’t known Peter at all.