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Chapter Text

Prologue 

His plans had failed. They had failed so spectacularly that he had wondered if he was feeling ill to not have expected every last piece of his scenario. Pettigrew dying, Sirius dying, Voldemort definitely dying, so many different scenarios had played through his head, plaguing him as he slept, just so he could get the results he wanted.

Yet somehow, James Potter had survived.

That threw a huge fucking wrench into Albus Percival Wulfric Brian  Dumbledore’s plans. 

James and Lily Potter were both supposed to die at the hands of Tom Riddle, leaving Harry alone in the world where Albus, the Wizarding World’s beloved savior and grandfather-like to all that he had met, could mold the young child in the way that he wanted. He could care less if Sirius Black or Peter Pettigrew survived.. Death was preferable, but Azkaban was good enough. Remus Lupin was already out of the picture, Albus found it too easy to poison his mind with doubt and insecurities, almost as easy as it was to push Pettigrew to turn from those that were beginning to save him so early from the depressing life he was bound to have led without them in his life. Albus was sure if he attended Hogwarts a year behind or ahead of the rest of the Marauders (a silly name, Dumbledore always thought) he would’ve died before fifth year even started. 

Once Godric’s Hollow was destroyed, the occupants dead or re-located, that was when the true molding should have begun. He had hoped the Dursleys, Lily’s disgusting Muggle sister and her overweight husband and child, would take the poor toddler in, raise him to obey orders and fear rebelling against the kindness he would no doubt get from Albus once he starts Hogwarts, until the boy was old enough to die and fulfill the prophecy Sybil had uttered only months prior. 

It was a godsend that he noticed Severus Snape in the pub that day. Originally he was going to have it leak in the newspaper, spread among the masses until Tom saw it himself and went to kill the Potters (or the Longbottoms, though Dumbledore was sure Harry would’ve been the more powerful of the two brats), but having Severus overhear, even the small bit he did manage to share, was so much easier than his original plan. This way, he could keep the prophecy for himself instead of having the entire Wizarding World know about how important Harry Potter truly was for the world.

But no. Somehow James Potter lived, the world was rejoicing the death of He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, and Harry Potter was still living a life that Dumbledore would not have chosen for him. Pettigrew was behind bars, Sirius Black was seen as innocent and still in the life of the living Potters, and Snape had somehow managed to avoid being sent to prison without Albus’ help.

It annoyed him. It made him livid. His magic itched under his skin. He wanted to destroy anything and everything and pull the rug out from under the entire world and purge everything, molding the world to how he wanted it to be. A perfect world that he had always envisioned.

But James Fucking Potter fucking lived.

And it ruined everything.

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Bear

James had a hard time understanding what was happening at first. He had woken up to frantic shouts of his name and the smell of burning wood. His head felt heavy, his body weak, and something wet was rolling down and ticking the side of his face. James could barely see what was in front of him, blurry block-like shapes that looked brown and black at the same time and he had wondered where his glasses had gone. He groaned, trying to move his body but could just barely twitch his fingers.

Another shout of his name, this time relieved, and he felt his entire blurry and confusing world shift before him. His body is helped up into a sitting position, strong arms keeping him from falling over and back onto the cold, isolating, unforgiving hard floor. Dark and wild hair, not as wild as his own and definitely not as wild as Harry’s would one day be, entered his vision and his heart pounded hard in his chest.

“Thank the gods you’re okay,” Sirius’ voice said, cutting through the fog in James’ mind. 

“Where’s ‘Arry?” James managed to whisper.He sounded like he had just woken up from a five-hundred year nap, his vision still swimming, and whatever was sliding down his face drying and sticking to his skin. He could hear everything and nothing at the same time. James twitched his fingers again, wanting to wipe his face, get up, and find his son. 

He needed to make sure his son was alive.

“We have him, he’s fine, just a little scared,” Sirius answered. Sirius’ hands were suddenly close to his face, placing a pair of glasses on his nose. “Not your usual pair, mind you,” he said, “just your backup.” He carefully stood up with James, the other man’s arm wrapped securely over his shoulders while Sirius put his other arm on James’ waist. “We need to get you outside where it’s safer to check on you before the building collapses.”

James’ head lulled forwards but he grunted in acknowledgement. He could feel his small burst of energy leaving faster than he wanted to, his eyelids feeling heavier than his sluggish thoughts with each careful step he and Sirius took to leave the burning Godric’s Hollow. A flash of red caught his eye and he remembered the other person that was in his house just minutes ago (or maybe it was hours? How long was he out?).

“Lily?”

James could feel Sirius shift under his arm. “She… She didn’t make it, James, I’m so sorry.”

He wasn’t sure how he should feel. His head felt heavy and he knew he should be upset, maybe to the point of tears and the need for revenge, but all he wanted was to leave this nightmare of a night and make sure his baby boy was safe, unharmed, and alive with his own two eyes.

“What happened?” he asked again, his voice getting stronger despite his body’s desire to close his eyes and sleep. 

“We’re… We’re still trying to figure that out, James, I swear. Right now we just need to get out before we can answer any more questions.” Sirius sounded more serious than James could ever remember, even when he fucked up so bad in sixth year that there was almost a death of a student. 

“‘Kay,” was all James could say before they managed to step over the last bit of rubble and make it out of the crumbling house. 

Outside was dark and surprisingly quiet. They were in a magical village, yet no one dared to leave their houses in the middle of the night to figure out what caused the explosion. If they even heard it from under the fidelius charm. 

A large figure stood next to a familiar motorcycle, arms holding a small, blue bundle. One other figure with multicolored robes was with him. Rubeus Hagrid and Albus Dumbledore. The half giant looked like he was close to tears, and dressed for a cold night ride. Dumbledore looked like he had eaten a particularly sour piece of lemon drop before it melted away to resemble a more calm and grandfatherly appearance. 

“Professor Dumbledore, I found James,” Sirius called out, snapping James out of his thoughts. “His glasses are broken and I think the glass cut his face badly. He needs to see Madam Pomfrey as soon as possible.” 

“Oh thank goodness fer tha’,” the larger man cried out. He cleared his throat and wiped at his face with his large hands, drying the tears that had been rolling down his face as he spoke to Dumbledore. 

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said calmly, but something felt off behind his words, almost matching the sour face he had made seconds before. James was too tired, his adrenaline slipping quickly through his fingers, to care. He just wanted to lay down and sleep, have Harry next to him at all times, and just forget trying to remember whatever happened tonight. It felt like he was blasted into a wall or a shelf, and honestly, he didn’t want to know who could’ve caused that right now. 

Sirius helped James to sit down on the pavement outside the house, sitting beside him to keep him from flopping forwards and onto his face. Hagrid moved closer and that’s when James heard his son for the first time since he woke up.

Harry was calling his name, a broken sob between each “Dada” that broke James’ heart. He wanted to cradle him in his arms and never let his baby boy go. 

“Do you remember what happened, my boy?” Dumbledore asked, suddenly standing before James as he collected himself as best as he could. He wondered if he had a concussion. It had been a while since he had one, his Quidditch days long gone after graduating Hogwarts and he had yet to get one while training to be an Auror. “Who could have possibly done this?”

James shook his head.

“Honestly, I can’t remember much right now, my head is killing me,” he answered honestly, but he felt his stomach drop. He wasn’t sure why, but something at the back of his head (not the possible concussion, mind you) was screaming at him. Something wasn’t right and he just couldn’t figure it out. 

James couldn’t help but scowl. He was an Auror in Training, he should’ve been able to bounce back better than this. Alastor Moody was nearly blasted off a building and walked it off like a champ during his training days and yet James could barely keep his head up when he got blasted in his own home. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Does something hurt?” Sirius asked. His sturdy and broad shouldered form popped in front of James’ vision. “Do we need to go to St. Mungo’s instead?”

“I’m fine,” James said. “Pomfrey is fine.”

The next couple of minutes felt like torture as Harry continued to call out for him. James wanted to hold him, cradle him in his arms and wish this night would end. With how heavy his arms felt, he doubted that he would be able to hold his son without the toddler falling flat on the ground. 

Madam Pomfrey came bustling down the street after a soft crack of apparition was heard a few feet away. James could hear her robes swishing closer, the soft soles of her boots making light steps as she made her way towards the broken building and the four men who were staying. She immediately went towards James, setting her medical supply bag down in front of him as she ran diagnostic charms on his face, head and body, clicking her tongue at the results.

“A slight concussion, cuts to the face and some heavy bruising on your ribs and arms. Nothing is broken, luckily, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you feel like it is,” she tutted. She reached into her bag and produced a potion. “Take this pain relieving draught every four hours for the next two days. No more or you’ll be craving it. It’s a very high dosage I’m giving you and we don’t need any more problems. I'll give you this one for now, and have the rest delivered.”

She handed the vial to James, who took it with shaking hands and downed the whole thing. In seconds the pounding in his head receded and he felt like he could focus more on what was happening now that the pain wasn’t as intense. 

“Now, Mr. Potter, I’ll be attending to your wounds on your face. Do you mind taking off your glasses?” she said, ever the professional. 

With Sirius' help, James took off his glasses so the mediwitch could clean at the cuts on his face. Pomfrey made sure they wouldn’t get infected, that glass was no longer lodged into the skin, and to check if any needed stitching. Luckily, they were minor wounds and only the longer scratches required a small bandage to help clot the blood. 

When she was done, she stepped back to talk to Dumbledore and check on Harry, who had calmed at seeing the witch and looked in awe at the magic that was produced from her wand. James was glad he had stopped crying. 

“What’s going to happen now?” he whispered. “What am I going to do? I can’t raise Harry on my own. Not since…”

“You’ll live with me, of course,” Sirius said, matter of factly. “I won’t let you or my godson just live wherever. Besides, we have stuff we need to track down your secret keeper and have him pay for what he caused.”

That brought a memory to surface from beyond the hazy pain in his head. Of a pale figure, one unrecognizable under the shadow of the dark cloak. Of a hissed voice demanding the sacrifice and another, more familiar one squeaking in response. A flash of light before pain engulfed him and he was blasted into the staircase. Hearing Lily screaming upstairs, but unable to help as pain radiated from his back, the glass creating cuts on the skin around his eyes (he was honestly real lucky it didn’t damage his eyes). Of a pained gasp as the house shook and fell apart, pieces of debris landing on his body before he blacked out for who knows how long.

“ Peter …” he brokenly gasped out. “ Why? Why would he do that? ” 

“That’s what we need to figure out,” Sirius answered. “I shouldn’t have had you guys switch Secret Keepers. If it was me, Lily would still be here, you and Harry wouldn’t be hurt, we wouldn’t be having to do this fucking thing and--”

“It’s not your fault,” James interrupted. “We didn’t know.”

“I thought…” Sirius deflated. “I thought… I thought the traitor was Moony. I honestly thought it was him.” The Black looked defeated. “He was just so…. Distant. I didn’t trust him with anything because of how he was acting. He said Dumbledore was giving him missions further away and I didn’t think Dumbledore would honestly do that so a part of me wondered if he was feeding information to the other side…”

“And yet it was Peter. The one person we kept close to all of us who stabbed us in the back,” Sirius said. He shook his head, dark hair falling further across his face. “I shouldn’t have pushed Moony away but…”

“What’s done is done,” interrupted James again. “What matters is that Harry is still here, that I can still raise him, even if… even if….”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, right. I’ll help. With the raising and stuff.”

James couldn’t help the chuckle that burst from his bruised chest. “You? Raising a toddler full time? I’d like to see that.”

Sirius Black puffed out his chest. “I’ll have you know I’m great with toddlers.”

“You made Regulus cry when he was a toddler.”

“Hey. I was a kid too when that happened, that means nothing.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Deer

The memories came flooding like a maelstrom, churning through thoughts in large uncontrolled waves that sent grief, anger and relief with each flash of color. James remembers seeing a tall cloaked figure blowing the front door of Godric’s Hollow to pieces; he remembers how he screamed at Lily to take Harry and run; he remembers how the cloaked wizard and himself dueled in pulsing colors, their shadows dancing vividly against treasured framed photos and special artifacts. James remembers the off-colored green spell aimed towards his chest. He remembers how he dodged just in time, the spell hitting a china cabinet behind him. He remembers how the explosion caused him to fly forwards and hit his head on the broken coffee table, his glasses smashing into tiny pieces and cutting the skin around his eyes. The last thing he remembers is watching the tall cloaked wizard climb up the stairs, wand held tightly in their hand as it twitched like a decapitated fish.

This vision of memories occurred while Sirius was giving Harry a bath two weeks after the incident. 

It was the middle of November, despite how slowly the days went by. Frost was beginning to decorate windows first thing every morning, as each leaf on the ground crunched like wet cereal with each step. It was honestly the best part of the autumn season, besides Quidditch, and James would’ve enjoyed it like any other autumn, if the guilt of what happened to his small family wasn’t still heavily present.

The sound of broken glass had Sirius running out of the bathroom with a giggling, naked and wet toddler in his arms, soaking the rolled up shirt and getting his so not fashionable leather pants covered in suds. 

“You alright? What’s going on?” said Sirius as soon as he saw that nothing except a mug was broken. No windows, no dead bodies, everyone was, for the most part, physically alright.

“Yeah,” James croaked out. He waved his wand and fixed the poor mug. It quickly righted itself, hardly showing a crack. Another wave and the mop popped out from the cupboard under the stairs, cleaning the spilled tea on the tiled floor. “Just…. Just couldn’t stop the memories this time around…”

Sirius pursed his lips. Harry had stopped giggling in his arms as water droplets landed on the floor, the charmed mop immediately dancing around the two. Sirius looked at James, who looked somber and tense, and nodded to himself.

“Come on.” He grasped onto James with his other hand. “I need help cleaning Prongslet, he keeps trying to eat the bubbles and still hasn’t figured out that they won’t taste that good.” That brought a smile, a very small one, to James face and he let himself be led out of the kitchen and back upstairs to the bathroom. 

The water was sure to be on the cold side of warm, but this toddler was going to be clean.

***

Large green eyes blinked up behind round rimmed glasses. For the first time in months Harry was able to see properly. And the first thing he saw a week after getting the glasses, was a brilliant dark amber staring right back at him. 

The person who belonged to the beautiful amber eyes blinked back, an uneasy smile gracing scared features. Harry had lines on his face too, right above his eyes, cutting into his eyebrows in jagged little lines and dancing across his skin. Some of those lines reached his cheeks, but they were very thin and he couldn’t see them, even with the new glasses, but at night, on days he had a hard time going to sleep even with bedtime stories and cuddles from Padfoot, he would feel his face and trace the lines until his arms grew tired and he couldn’t fight his eyelids anymore. This person also had lines, going from one side of his face to the other and they looked much bigger than Harry’s.

It was the first time Remus Lupin had met Harry since the Potters had come out of hiding. He had held Harry a few times before Dumbledore sent him on crazy and long missions. One of the few precious memories he had of Harry before Lily’s death was him falling to sleep as Remus held him, the small infant holding onto Remus’ shirt tightly in tiny chubby hands. 

However, Remus was worried. 

He had been away so long, had distrusted the wrong people, and was probably distrusted himself as well. While James and Sirius had welcomed him with open arms and apologies worth millions, Harry was one he didn’t think he could accept being out of his life. Which was silly to think, Harry’s a baby, he has no concept of time. 

“How long have they been staring at each other?” Sirius asked, not bothering to whisper. He had come back from the kitchen, a bowl of crisps in his hands, to find James watching the scene in front of him. “They do realize that they are in fact real, right?”

“I think they have yet to come to that realization…” James trailed off. 

It had hurt, honestly, to learn that Remus was afraid to come to them after everything was cleared. It had taken so long for him to come over; Sirius was even close to begging on his knees, not for his sake, but for James. He didn’t realize how fragile isolated Remus had felt in the months that lead up to The Disaster (as James and Sirius started calling it). Dumbledore had pushed Moony too far away to be comforted and reassured by his family that James wasn’t going to allow that to happen again. 

He will tie him down in a chair if it happens again.

“Moony,” he called out, “Harry might have most of his baby teeth in, but he won’t bite.”

Sirius’ guffaw of a laugh was the one to startle the two out of their impromptu staring contest. Remus flushed a bright pink and Harry giggled along with Sirius, no clue in the joke but wanting to feel included. 

“I-I know that…” Remus trailed off. “It’s just…”

“He’s not going to judge you for anything,” James cut in. “He’s way too curious to do that.” His eyes softened as Harry finally made the first move, struggling to wiggle onto his knees before standing on his feet. “Besides, I think he missed you.”

Despite being a few months past his first birthday, Harry still had difficulty grasping the ability to walk. The healers were unsure what the dark curse could’ve affected, especially being aimed so close to the head as head injuries were very tricky, even for wizards, and told James (and Sirius) that they wouldn’t be surprised if he had some regression from what he could do before The Disaster.  Harry was able to walk short distances before The Disaster, even going as far as nearly mastering going up and down the stairs despite being fifteen months old. After The Disaster, however, Harry had yet to even go near the stairs without needing help, nor did he try to walk too far.

Harry reached out to Moony, taking a few shaky steps in his direction and Remus didn’t hesitate to quickly hold his arms open. The toddler struggled to get there and fell into the man’s arms. Remus pulled him closer, almost on instinct, and nearly broke down as Harry snuggled closer to him, sighing in content.

“Moony,” Harry muffled out, rubbing his face on Remus’ worn shirt. “Y’ back.”

“Yeah, Harry,” Remus responded, voice clogged with tears. “I’m back.”

***

Once Harry was down for a nap (one he refused to take. A secret promise shared between Sirius and Harry got the toddler to agree to lay down for a few minutes and if he wasn’t asleep by then he could stay up. Poor dear passed out long before that time was up), the three men sat on the large plush couches in the flat’s living room with steaming cups of tea, Siris and James on one and Remus on the other while a small black coffee table separated them.. Remus couldn’t help but stare down at the floor.

“Now that you’re back, what do you think you’re going to do?” James asked. “There can’t be any more missions that Dumbledore has for you, all things considered…”

Remus shrugged his shoulders. “Honestly, I have no idea. I’m sure by now the house I was living in has been rented out by someone else at this point…. Haven’t really been trying to send in my rent through the mail, not during all this mess.”

“You can live with us then, until you get back on your feet,” James said. “It’ll be good, having you here. Harry will love it, I’m sure, having all his uncles in the same place and all.”

“Well, all the good ones, that is,” Sirius grumbled.

The lightly tense atmosphere grew heavier at the reminder of the missing fourth member. Peter Pettigrew, while not the most charming looking man to have grown in Hogwarts, was the four Marauders to grace its halls. A man who had always been shorter than the other three, who had the blondest of hair, straight as a pin, though always enjoyed a little extra snacks and helpings during mealtimes. The Marauders thought their brotherhood was stronger than it was. 

They were wrong, of course.

James and Remus frowned in remembrance of the man. 

With James needing his help, Sirius had very little desire to leave the man’s side and hunt down Pettigrew and deal with him with his own two hands. The little rat was still missing, the most wanted man in all of the United Kingdom, though Sirius and James had gladly told the ministry of his animagus form, even if it meant giving up theirs as well and registering themselves to avoid the hefty fine. 

“We’ll also need all the help we can get next week,” James continued. “The Order wanted to get together and check up on us and Sirius and I would love to have an extra set of eyes on Harry while we’re there.”

“Dumbledore is allowing this?”

Sirius snorted. 

“Barely. You’d think he’d be happy having the Dark Lord gone and out of our hair and would be celebrating alongside us!”

Remus set down his cup, surprised.

“Is he not?”

Sirius shook his head. “Nah, he keeps being weird and acting all spooky and shit. Hinting that the Dark Lord isn’t really gone and all that shite. I’m nothing like my parents, mind you, but I recognize weird paranoia and obsessive behavior when I see it. Makes me want to shut Harry in Grimmauld sometimes, just to use up my father’s paranoid protections on the place.” He leaned closer to Remus, as if he was going to spill the world’s biggest secret. 

“He stares, Moony. Like, full on stares at Harry whenever he visits, as if he’s hoping to find a demiguise hiding behind him and willing to spill the secrets of the future. It freaks us the fuck out but it’s not like we can do much. He’s got half the ministry in his pocket and could probably cover anything bad against him up faster than you can say ‘ Stupefy ’!”

Remus looked over at James, as if expecting the man to calm their friend and have him see reason. But he was astonished to see the lost and fearful look that was slapped plainly on his face, as if he too felt the same as Sirius.

“Do you… That seems like something serious that shouldn’t be ignored, Padfoot,” he said placatingly. “Are you sure it’s not a misunderstanding? James?”

James shook his head. 

“I… I can’t help but get this odd feeling from Professor Dumbledore since the night of The Disaster… As if he was disappointed by the damage… or something . He keeps asking weird questions too…”

“Like what?”

“Do I remember what spells were used, what did it feel like being in You-Know-Who’s presence, did I see what happened, did… did I hear anything he could’ve told Harry, done to Harry, made Harry do… I don’t want him to be near Harry after those questions, Remus,” James said. He stared intently at the werewolf, his hazel eyes haunted. 

“What if he asks Harry those things and it makes Harry regress in his recovery? We already think he’s regressed in his gross motor skills and while he wasn’t that good of a talker in the first place it still doesn’t sound right… What if Dumbledore makes it worse and Harry won’t be able to function at all.”

Those were valid concerns, ones Remus didn’t have an answer or solution for. 

“I’ll support whatever choices you make,” Remus finally said. “After all, you’re Harry’s father. I can't do your job, no one can, but I can help and be there for both of you when you need me.”

“Glad you’re on our side then, Moony,” Sirius grinned. 

“You’re my friends, my family,” Remus said. “I should’ve been with you when it all happened, I don’t really know why I wasn’t, but I don’t want it to happen again. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”