"Sirius, for God's sake! Move over to the left! I've barely got space to breathe here -" said James.
"Look, be quiet, I'm trying to read the map!" replied Sirius quickly.
"That was my foot!" yelped Peter.
"Well, if you'd just take up less room -" said Sirius unapologetically.
"They keep tempting me with treacle tarts!" complained Peter. "How can anybody resist -"
"Hush!" said James. "I can hear footsteps. Sirius, look at the map before we go right into them."
"The cloak's flapping around our ankles!" said Remus, trying to enlarge it with a quick spell. He felt the fabric expand and could finally breathe unimpeded.
He heard a low whine from Peter's throat.
"What's wrong now, Peter?" said Sirius in a bored tone.
"Look." He pointed. "It's Snape."
"What's the time?" said James, checking his watch. "We're ten minutes past night time curfew."
"He's going to report us," said Remus. "He knows it's us, look at him smiling -"
"Slimy git," said Sirius vehemently. "But if he catches us then the map is going to get confiscated by Filch."
"Right then, I'll go out," said James. "I'll just say that I'm doing the rounds. He can't get me in trouble for that."
"Don't curse him," said Remus warningly. "He'd love to get you expelled, remember that -"
"He'd love to get Lily also," finished Sirius.
James didn't say anything but side-stepped the rest of the group and took a few steps away from where they were hiding beneath the cloak. He could hear Snape's footsteps as he was about to turn the corner. James held his breath, waiting for the moment where his enemy realised that he was waiting for him. He would have pretended to be checking a broom cupboard, but he had learned from his Defence teacher never to turn his back on an opponent. Snape was certainly that.
Snape looked at him in horror as he turned the corner. The expression quickly disappeared, though, replaced with a small smirk.
"Wanted a midnight duel, Potter?" he asked waspishly.
"Well, if you'd like one," said James offhandedly. "No girls to save you this time though, Severus."
Snape walked a few steps closing, a menacing sneer upon his face. "I know far more than you're ever likely to, Potter."
"Not all of us are weak, Snape, and have to turn to the dark arts for protection," said James quietly.
"I am not weak!" spat Snape.
"No, you're just a coward," said James, glaring at him. "You'll be in with him eventually, though, won't you? I bet he'd love somebody like you -"
"Don't you dare," said Snape in a warning tone. "I'm not a coward!"
"But you are," said James delicately, "or you would have done something to me by now."
"I thought the same about you," said Snape slowly. "But you just don't want that Mudblood finding out, do you?"
"Call her that again and the gargoyles will be seeing your pants, Snivellus," said James in a deadly voice.
"Aren't we above these antics now, Potter?" said Snape. "I would have thought even your level of competence would have risen by seventh year."
"Oh, it has," said James. "I'm just not going to waste those skills upon the likes of you."
Snape let out a low snarl. "You will get your comeuppance, Potter."
"Will I, Snape?" laughed James. "I doubt it will be because of you, if you don't mind my saying."
"You'll regret your arrogance, you mark my words. There will come a time when you will rue today and every other encounter we've had," whispered Snape.
In his black robes he seemed to almost glide down the corridor back to the Slytherin dungeons. As James glared at his retreating back, he called after him, "You'll have to see Slughorn for being out past curfew, Snape. Let that be a lesson to you."
James didn't particularly feel like going back to the tower with his friends straightaway. He loved the freedom of having the Invisibility Cloak and the knowledge that the map gave the group…but he did sometimes wonder if it was ethical to create such a thing. As with every object, it could be used for good, bad, or slightly mischievous causes. He convinced himself that the Marauders fitted under the "mischievous" category rather than the "bad".
He strolled around the castle complacently, completely at ease. He checked a few of the broom cupboards, awarding detentions to the couples he saw inside them. He was just making the final rounds of the Charms corridor when he saw Lily emerging from a classroom further down.
"Hi," said Lily, when she spotted James. "Why are you patrolling? It's not our night."
"Oh, you know…" said James vaguely.
"No, I don't know." She smiled. "Tell me."
"It's rather boring. I was going for a night-time stroll, ran across ol' Snivelly, and before I knew it -"
"Ran into Snape, did you?" said Lily, looking him over. "I rather hope that you didn't hex him this time."
"No," said James lightly. "I must admit that it was quite tempting though."
"Well, it seems you might be growing up at last." Lily laughed.
"I seriously doubt that," said James, grinning sheepishly. "But I'll go along with it if it makes you happy."
Lily said nothing. Walking back to the tower together at night was a regular occurrence between the two of them now; almost every evening James would do an extra patrol (he insisted that he didn't trust the younger years) and Lily would meet him somewhere near the Charms classrooms.
"Why are you in the Charms department every evening, Lily?" asked James carefully.
She waved her hand carelessly. "Oh, you know…"
"You can't use my own line against me," he grinned.
"Well, I can certainly try to, at least," said Lily.
"You don't have to say," backtracked James quickly. "I hope you don't think I was being pushy -"
"Oh no. I don't think that, James dear, I know," she said. "I've been having advanced Charms classes with Flitwick himself. He said that I'm guaranteed an "O" in my NEWT and hoped that I would pursue a career in that field."
"You agreed, then?" said James. "I thought you said that you'd like to be -"
"An Auror," said Lily. "I know. I'm not quite so sure now, but I think I'd like to be one. Until the war is over."
James smiled sadly. "You really think it's going to come to an end within the next ten years?"
Lily's chin jutted slightly. "I don't see any reason why it shouldn't -"
James raised his eyebrows sceptically at her. "You're awfully stubborn, you know," he said teasingly.
She lowered her eyes in defeat. "I suppose I'm just wishing that it finishes soon. It all seems too much sometimes, you know."
"Yes, I do know," said James sadly.
"So I suppose you've tried out the map by now," said Lily, watching him closely.
"We'd never have been able to do it if it wasn't for you," he said cheerfully.
"You didn't answer my question, Potter," she responded.
"What's the point?" he laughed. "You already know the answer."
"I suppose you wouldn't be you, if you hadn't," she said grudgingly, giving him a small smile.
"And that's why you love me," he laughed.
There was a strange, almost awkward, silence that met his words. He hadn't quite meant them to sound presumptuous; he had simply meant them as a joke that he knew she'd laugh off easily. Instead she was gazing at him with a little uncertainty and dragged her eyes away from his.
"In your dreams," she replied.
"I have very explicit dreams, you know," said James, injecting humour into the conversation.
"I don't wish to know, thank you very much," said Lily, but she was smiling this time, and she looped her arm through his.
"What's that, Evans?" he asked.
Her brow furrowed.
"I think you just invaded my personal space -" he continued.
She went to withdraw her arm quickly.
"Not that I mind, of course," he added hastily. "It was just very unexpected from a witch such as yourself."
She leant against his arm slightly, sighing from fatigue. "God, I'm tired," she said with a yawn. "I don't know how I'm going to make it back to the dormitories."
James observed her mischievously. "Well, there's always a way to resolve a situation like this," he said.
"There is?" questioned Lily, uncertainly. "I hope it doesn't involve a prank, Mister Potter. Especially when I was warming to you; it seems such a shame that -"
But she was completely cut off by James. He scooped her up and carried her in his arms quite easily. She quieted when she realised that he was not, in fact, joking with her.
"Have you charmed me to be feather light?" she asked suspiciously. "You'd be working up a sweat if not, and I can't see a single bead of it -"
James grunted slightly.
"Aha!" said Lily. "You are in pain. NOW PUT ME DOWN!"
James simply smiled. "I'm a Marauder. We just don't 'do' pain. Plus you're as light as a feather already. I don't need to charm you."
"There's no point in asking, is there?" said Lily in defeat.
"No," said James flatly. "You could always curse me if you really wanted."
"No magic in corridors," said Lily in a small voice. "I have to uphold the rules even if there is nobody to see."
James laughed and brought her closer to him.
"Still feeling tired?" he asked.
Lily found it hard to remember if she had even told him such a thing. His face was so close to her own that she found it hard to formulate a proper thought. Her heart skipped a beat (and she thought that just happened in slushy romance novels, but apparently not) and her head inclined slightly toward his.
"Not particularly," she mumbled.
"Good, because I'm not putting you down just yet," he said.
They reached the dormitory in relative silence. James didn't want to bang Lily's head on any objects that they passed, and he took particular care on any moving staircases. If he dropped her he wasn't sure that he would ever be forgiven. When they reached the portrait hole he put her right way up slowly but left his hand in hers, Lily thought, rather longer than necessary.
They walked through the portrait hole into the empty common room, and Lily went to approach the door to the girls' dormitories. However she was incapable of moving. Her feet seemed almost rooted to the ground, and she wasn't sure if she was quite ready to leave James for the safety of her bed just yet.
"Night, James," she said slowly.
And she wasn't quite sure how it happened; one minute she was saying goodnight and the next he was far too close to her. She could see the green flecks in his eyes. He was too close, much too close. She couldn't think properly again; her brain was confused, confounded and yet…it wasn't. Things also seemed to be remarkably clear.
"Lily," he whispered.
In that split second James reached out to pull her closer to him. His head bent down slightly, and he inclined hers slightly toward him. He smiled slowly and leant in to kiss her.
They broke apart a few moments later. Lily stared at him, slightly dumfounded at what had just happened between him both. She hated this boy, had always hated him. But she didn't anymore. Not one bit. Her feelings for him had swung completely in the opposite direction and her nerves fluttered anxiously.
"Goodnight, Lily," he replied.
He headed slowly up to his dormitory and let out a silent cheer as he pulled his hangings around him. At that moment in time he felt that life couldn't get any better for him. For the first time in months, he was truly happy.
*
James headed down to the Great Hall the next day full of life and vitality. His cheeks were flushed slightly, his eyes sparkled behind his glasses and he smiled at everybody he met on the staircase. As he was a generally happy person, this didn't spark much interest. Nobody knew who had put the twinkle in his eye or made his smile span two centimetres wider.
"Remus!" he called when he had nearly reached the entrance. "Who are you waiting for?"
"You," he replied. "I have some news -"
"So do I," broke in James quickly. "About Lily -"
"James, this is important," said Remus.
"So is this!" said James impatiently. "Finally, after all these years, and you decide that it's not important!"
Remus was obviously put off his news. "You finally got together?" he asked, smiling. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes, though, and was a little forced. "Great news!"
"Yes," said James, observing his friend properly now. "Remus, what's wrong?"
"The thing is, James," he said. "Okay. Blunt honesty or the slightly kinder version?"
"Blunt honesty," replied James quickly. "Tell me as we eat breakfast instead. I'm so hungry I could eat a hippogriff!"
Remus almost shook his head sadly. He hated to be the one to break his friend's good mood and happy euphoria.
"The thing is," said Remus slowly, "Professor McGonagall stopped by our dormitory this morning when you were in the shower. She said that -"
Remus realised that he didn't have his friend's full attention. Something snapped inside, and he exhaled slowly.
"JAMES!" he practically bellowed. "She said that … your father … you see, he's -"
James stared at him, dumbfounded. His brain refused to function properly, whirring around the same loop … Was his father dead? Surely not, he couldn't be … His mother would have called for him if he was dying. She would have realised he didn't care about his own safety if it meant that he got to see his father. He wouldn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. His heart felt as if it had stopped beating, the voices flew over his head meaninglessly and his throat was completely dry. He looked at Lupin again, struggling with his words.
"He's dying," he finished softly.
"No," whispered James. "No, he can't be. Mum said he was fine. She said she would owl me if there was a problem. She wouldn't, she couldn't, not tell me. Mum would never -"
"It all happened so quickly, she would never have left you in the dark if she'd had a choice," said Remus imploringly. "How about we take you to Professor Dumbledore? He'll be able to sort out your travelling methods to St. Mungo's to go see him."
"You'll do that?" asked James pathetically. "Thank you."
His hand was clutching Remus's arm almost painfully tight, but Remus didn't have the heart to remove it. Instead he took his arm and slowly led him to the Headmaster's office. He gazed at his friend worriedly, wondering if he was going to pass out along the way.
"Sugar Quill," said Remus quietly, pulling his friend onto the stairwell.
The stairwell revolved around slowly, and Remus tapped his foot impatiently as they waited for the door to open. The door opened to reveal Dumbledore sitting at his desk. He waved the door shut with his hand and said "Portus" to the kettle sitting on his desk.
"Right, we have to be quick, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore carefully. "Your father is hovering somewhere between life and death at the moment. He was cursed severely and tortured trying to protect your mother from a Death Eater raid. She wished for you not to know, thinking his health would improve, but -"
He was cut off by an involuntary gulp from James.
"Unfortunately his health hasn't improved. Listen to me carefully, James. You must not be seen. The staff at St. Mungo's have been told to not inform anybody of your whereabouts. Death Eaters are swarming the streets in droves, and as you have access to my office regularly, they will most certainly try to accost you. Keep a low profile. You have until" - Dumbledore checked his watch - "eight o'clock this evening. The Portkey will reactivate at this time, and you will have to return immediately."
"Thank you, sir," said James.
His eyes were completely blank, and his hands were shaking slightly, the only betrayal of how he was feeling inside.
"How bad is it?" asked Remus.
"There is hope," said Dumbledore. "The Healers are doing all that is within their power. However, in this case, that doesn't seem to be quite enough. The next few hours are critical."
Remus shook his head and said, "Could - do you possibly think - that I or Sirius could go with him?"
Dumbledore looked at James. "Sirius has been informed and might meet you shortly after you arrive. Remus, you will go back to Gryffindor tower and continue with James's normal duties. I daresay that a certain Head Girl will be wondering about his whereabouts."
"Good luck," said Remus to James, embracing him. He left shortly after with a backward glance and proceeded back to the tower.
James had gone deathly white.
"It's fine to be concerned for your relatives, James," observed Dumbledore. "It's our ability to feel, to love, that sets us apart from the likes of Voldemort and his Death Eaters."
"I thought that dad was invincible," said James simply. "His mortality seems to put things into perspective."
"Go," said Dumbledore. "One, two, three…"
James felt a sharp tug, and just before the world began to swirl rapidly around him, he heard Dumbledore say, "I look forward to your end of term prank, Mr. Potter."
James felt distinctly ruffled as he walked down the corridor to his father's room; the welcome witch had been most helpful in assisting him and kept casually fluttering her eyelashes. On a normal day James might have flirted back and held her attention for a few moments longer, but today he nodded curtly, said thank you, and headed on his way. He wasn't stopping for anybody.
He stopped when he saw his father's Healer outside the door.
"You're James Potter?" she asked quietly.
He nodded in confirmation.
"Go straight through." She jerked her thumb in the direction of the door. "He's been asking for you."
James edged in and glanced around the ward, searching out his father. He saw him in the bed closest to the window. His eyes were half closed, but they sparkled slightly when he saw his son in the doorway.
He walked unsurely to his father's bedside, silently observing his sorry state. He had a large lump on the side of his forehead; it was glistening with the beads of sweat that ran down it. There were small gashes and cuts over his arms and face. His body was obscured by the sheets, but from the shallow, almost painful breathing James deduced his torso was wrapped in bandages.
"Hey," said James softly.
One of his father's eyelids cracked open. He winced at the pain that the small movement caused.
"Hello, son," he rasped quietly.
James couldn't say anything in response. He had never thought he would see his father like this: weak. His father was invincible. The one who never needed a wand to open a jar or fix a bike. The one who taught James to fight for what he believed in, to never settle for second best, to never let people who might be seen as inferior not have the same opportunities. This man, who had taught him all these things, was lying in a hospital bed because he had fought for what was right.
"How are you?" asked James.
"I've never known why people ask me that." His father smiled. "If I felt good I wouldn't be here, would I?"
James smiled, appreciative that his father's sense of humour was still intact.
"They say you're making a tremendous recovery," said James hopefully.
"They always say that," he said quietly.
"Forever the optimist," said James, rolling his eyes slightly.
"I'm being realistic, James," said his father. "Don't interrupt me, please. I need to say this. Our home was taken by Death Eaters. Your mother doesn't want me to tell you. This is one time I'll go against her wishes.
Take your lessons seriously. You may think a prank or two every now and again is fine, but you need to be serious, James. The time for fun and games is over. I want to know that you'll do all you can to keep your mother safe -"
At this point James nodded his head.
"- and that you'll do everything within your power to keep yourself safe and out of trouble. I know that you sneak into Hogsmeade, and I want it to end. I'm not telling you, I'm asking with the hope that you'll obey me. You may be of age now, but that doesn't mean that you behave that way -"
James opened his mouth slightly to protest and then thought better of it.
"- and I want to be sure that I can trust you."
"You can," said James resolutely.
"Good," his father replied. "I thought so."
A single tear fell unchecked down James's face.
"I'm proud of you, James," he whispered, his eyes now closing again.
James, for once in his life, was completely speechless. What could he say to that?
"I love you," he replied, truthfully.
"You know, in seventeen years, I think that is the first time I've heard you say those words," said Mr. Potter somewhat gratefully.
"I've never meant it more," mumbled James.
"Well now we've got that sorted," said Mr. Potter, but his voice was slightly heavy with the sound of tears. "I'd like to discuss your girlfriend situation."
"Lack of," said James, laughing.
"I just wanted to know how you and Lily were getting on," he continued. "Might amuse me somewhat. What have you done wrong now?"
"Nothing," replied James simply. "I have matured, apparently…"
"I'll believe it when I see it," he replied. "Right, you go back to school. You've been here long enough and I need a sleep."
"You'd have thought you would have had enough by now," said James.
"I need my beauty sleep."
"I could have told you that years ago," replied James.
He leant over his father to kiss him goodbye, and his father put an arm around him, patting him on the back.
"You be good now," he said gruffly.
"You know me, Dad."
"I do know you, fortunately. I love you, James. Just you remember that," his father whispered. His arm dropped back to his side and his face was creased with the pain that the effort of speaking required.
The mediwitch came back into the room quickly.
"Headmaster Dumbledore's Portkey will take you back, Mr. Potter. Your father needs some well deserved rest."
But the last James saw of his father was him looking deathly pale, sweating, and mumbling incoherently. He'd never get that image out of his mind. Not until the day he died.
--
AN: I really, really, dislike author's notes as a general rule but I just have one thing to say! If you read, please review. This fanfiction has been the product of many months. However, secondly, I need to say a huge (and I really cannot express how huge when I say this -- we're talking universe!) thank you to my beta reader Mortalus (can be found at Pefect Imagination). Without her the plot would have been far more melodramatic (I'm a drama queen, can't you tell?) and you would have wept when viewing the grammar. So a big thank you to her for seeing this through to the end.