The hardships of waking up
“Ten years?” James asks, staring at Albus Dumbledore with eyes as wide as saucers. “We’ve— we’ve been down for ten bloody years?”
“I’m afraid so,” Dumbledore sighs, his pale blue eyes simmering with sympathy. “Whatever curse Voldemort hit you both with, it caused you to fall into a coma, and a rather serious one at that.”
“I‘d say…” James sighs, his head swimming with a thousand more questions and another thousand possible answers. Some of which were too horrible to ask aloud, yet needed to be asked. “So…that’d make Harry— he’d be what, eleven now?”
Dumbledore nods, tapping the table between them with his long fingers. “Indeed. Harry has just started at Hogwarts a few weeks ago.” he complies. “A very bright boy, much like the two of you.”
James feels his throat closing up at the impossible thought of his son— who had been fifteen months old just yesterday, to be eleven years old. That’s almost a teenager. Merlin’s beard, he’d be able to talk and walk and probably much more by now.
He glances to his left, to Lily, who has barely said a word since they’d sat down with Dumbledore. His chest tightens when he spots the tears brimming in her eyes.
He reaches a hand out to take hers, earning her attention. There aren’t any right words he could say to make her feel better, because nothing could be enough to lessen the pain of knowing they’d missed ten years of their son’s life, so he doesn’t speak.
He just smiles, a tearful, sad smile that tells her that it’s okay to feel sad. That he feels the same way.
He turns back to look at Dumbledore, the sadness now mingling with an overwhelming sense of urgency. “We would like to see him.” he says, and feels Lily squeezing his fingers tightly.
Dumbledore nods slowly, though James can tell there is more to come. “You will,” he promises. “But I’m afraid there is something else you both have to know first,” he threads his fingers together in front of him, meeting James’s eyes with a serious frown. “About what happened that night, after Voldemort came to Godric’s Hollow…regarding your secret keeper, Sirius Black.”
/\
“It was Peter, not Sirius,” James explains fiercely. “We switched at the last minute. It was Sirius’s idea. He thought it would be less obvious, choosing Peter, that it’d be the safer option…” he bites his lip at the thought of Peter, his friend, probably tortured to insanity to reveal their secret.
Dumbledore, as it happens only very rarely, seems completely taken back by this revelation. “Peter Pettigrew?” he asks.
James nods. “Yes,” he leans closer, urgency in his voice. “What did they do to him?”
Dumbledore watches him pensively for a long moment, before his eyes drift to look at Lily, who squeezes his hand once more.
“He did it,” she whispers in horror.
James turns around to stare at her. “Did what?” he asks slowly.
Lily’s beautiful green eyes narrow as she looks away onto her lap, angry tears in her eyes. “James, they didn’t torture Peter,” she says quietly. “Did they?” she asks Dumbledore.
“No,” Dumbledore replies, averting his eyes to study the wooden table. “If it was not Sirius—“
“It wasn’t.” James counters immediately.
Lily shoots him a warning look, though Dumbledore doesn’t waver in his ever present patience. “If it wasn’t Sirius,” he repeats calmly. “Then it was Peter who sold you out that night. And it was Peter again, who killed all those muggles in the aftermath, leaving Sirius to be condemned to a lifetime in Azkaban.”
“No…” James shakes his head, tears now blurring his vision. “No, Peter wouldn’t— he wouldn’t do that.” he insists, running a nervous hand through his hair. “He was my friend.”
Lily’s hand on his shoulder does little to ease the staggering dread pooling in his stomach. “James—“
“Shit!” James exclaims, standing up so abruptly that he causes his chair to tip over. “How could he?” he asks, though he isn’t sure whom. “How could he go behind our backs? We trusted him— I trustedhim. With our lives. With— with Harry’s life!”
Lily gets up as well, and pulls him into her arms, her warmth being the only thing that finally causes the room to stop spinning. “It’s not your fault, James.” she whispers, seeing through him right away. “Harry’s alive. He’s safe.”
James wraps his arms securely around her, breathing in the faint smell of the minty shampoo she’d used earlier.
Harry’s safe. He’s alive.
“We have to get him out.” he says, forcing himself to push down the overwhelming amount of anger he feels towards the friend who’d betrayed them.
A bloody rat is what Peter was and perhaps has been for a long time. Now James finally understands just how well Peter’s animagi form fits him.
“Indeed.” Dumbledore agrees. “Sirius will have to be granted a trail. With you both speaking for him, the Ministry has to annul his sentence.”
“We’ll go to the Ministry right away.” Lily says, pulling away from his arms to look at their old Headmaster.
Dumbledore smiles as he gets up from his chair. “I understand the urgency, of course, but be sure that I will inform Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and a dear friend of mine, to arrange a trail for Mr. Black at once. With the promise of you two as his witnesses, I am sure it will be done in no time.”
That soothes James only partly, though he understands that that’s all which can be done for now. “Tell her to arrange for him to be held outside of Azkaban until his trail.” he insists, not able to settle for anything less. “Ten years of unjustified incarceration should be more than enough reason for them to approve my request.”
Dumbledore nods. “Indeed it should.” he gathers his dark blue cloak and wand, before sparing them a small smile. “It is good to have you back.” he says.
“It’s good to be back, sir.” James replies.
Dumbledore’s smile grows only slightly as he turns his attention to Lily. “In the meantime, I should think you have waited long enough.”
James heart hammers against his ribcage.
“I will have a word with Harry right away to inform him of your circumstances,” Dumbledore tells them. “I expect this news to be rather a shock to him, as his aunt and uncle have told him you two had passed away in a car crash…”
James can feel Lily’s nails pressing painfully into his palm. However angry he feel at those horrible muggles for how lying to Harry like that, he can only imagine what it must be like for her.
Her own sister. He knows she will not admit it, but up until now, some part of her had still wanted them to be close again. It seems that part had just died together with any hopes they had that maybe Petunia had at least deemed an innocent baby worth some sense of sympathy.
“I will explain everything to him, and should he be ready to see you, I shall bring him here this afternoon.”
“But wouldn’t it be better if—“
“Lil,” James gently interrupts her. “He’s right. Harry’ll probably need a minute. It’s better if he hears it from someone he…knows.” because right now, our son doesn’t know us.
Lily sighs, and James can see the internal war she wages between agreeing and disapparating on the spot to look for Harry at Hogwarts. “Alright,” she concedes in the end, her shoulders slumping in momentary defeat. “We’ll be waiting.”
“Very well,” Dumbledore says, before he opens the door to exit their room. “I suggest you get yourself a warm meal and some proper rest,” he winks. “Young boys have plenty of energy.”
James beams at that, a hopeful promise that they’d get to see Harry soon, if all goes well. “We will, sir.”
The door shuts as Dumbledore exits, leaving Lily and him to wait once more, though this time, in hopes to see their son.
“God,” Lily sighs. “I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like…I mean Azkaban, James,” she wipes the tears from her eyes, only for new ones to appear. “Sirius has been there for ten years…”
James could vomit at the mere thought of how terrible it must have been for Sirius. His best mate. “We’ll get him out.” he mutters determinedly. “We have to get him out. I can’t rest until—“
Lily takes his hand, pulling him closer until her head is resting against his shoulder. “We will.” she whispers. “We’ll get him out, James.”
They stay like this for a moment, soaking in each others warmth, before Lily pulls back.
“Do you think he’ll want to come?” she asks him as she perches herself onto the edge of her bed. “Harry, I mean.”
James sits down opposite her onto his own bed, regarding her hopeful expression. “I hope so.” he replies.
She is quiet for a moment, fumbling absently with a loose threat of her green jumper. “Do you think…he’ll like us?” she asks eventually.
James’s stomach hurts to think he might not. “He’ll love you,” he assures her, having no doubt about it. “If he’s anything like me, he won’t be able to resist you for long.”
To his relief, she smiles in earnest this time. “You too. If he’s anything like me.” she replies, getting up from her bed to sit down on his lap instead. “We’ll be together soon.” she whispers, before leaning closer to kiss his lips.
“Yeah,” he replies. “We’ll be together soon.”