Chapter Text
“How come Wormtail's not here?” James asked his friends after downing a swig of butterbeer.
“He said his mum fell ill again,” Sirius answered. He was playing with Harry on the carpet and had spent the better part of an hour trying to get him to say ‘Padfoot’.
“Poor Pete,” Lily tutted. She shifted in James’s embrace to lean more comfortably against him.
“Again?" James said. He knew there was a warm spot in her heart for Peter, especially now that his mother's health was deteriorating. James knew what that felt like; he pitied his friend and was just as concerned for Mrs. Pettigrew.
Remus nodded. He was sitting on the armchair across from them, nursing his bottle of butterbeer. “He sends his apologies for not coming. He would’ve sent an owl, but we told him not to. We saw him earlier today.”
“Yes!" Sirius roared, lifting Harry into the air like a trophy. "Go on, Harry, do it again!”
James smiled. It was endearing to see Sirius with Harry. He was so soft with him—it brought out his very well-hidden responsible side. Harry babbled nonsensically, and Sirius encouraged him with tickles.
"Go on,” he said to Harry encouragingly.
Harry babbled something that sounded like “Pa-fa!"
“See?" Sirius said. “Padfoot! Hard work really does pay off.”
"I don't know, Padfoot, to me it sounds like he's saying ‘papa’ again," James remarked with great amusement.
Sirius frowned. "No! It's distinctly different. You’re his papa. I am Pa-fa!”
"Whatever you say, Pa-fa," Remus grinned. Lily convulsed with quiet laughter against James.
“Baby steps. A win is a win, Moony."
Harry went on babbling. "Noo… noo… Noony!”
Remus raised his fist victoriously. James burst into laughter. He had missed this so much—his friends, his family. His mother used to say that loving was what James did best.
"Good job, Harry!” Lily cooed.
Sirius looked defeated. He turned the baby around. “Seriously, Harry? Whose side are you on?”
The laughter died down at the sudden scream coming from down the street.
“What was that?" asked Sirius.
James dismissed his friend's worries with a wave of his hand. “Probably nothing. A Hallowe’en prank, maybe?" It wasn’t wise to ignore it. It was a poor attempt to preserve the moment.
James felt Lily tense up. "Maybe we should check? Just in case.”
Remus and Sirius exchanged concerned glances. They all knew what was being left unsaid. They all desperately craved normalcy, innocence—just for one evening. So badly that they compromised security. Sadly, reality had other plans. James knew in his heart what the responsible thing to do was. He dreaded it; it meant submitting to the awful truth.
“Fine," he decided, nudging Lily so he could get up from the couch. “I’ll go check it out."
The cottage wasn’t that big. James could easily cross the living room and reach the door in a few steps. But before he could, Sirius called after him.
“Oi! You forgot your wand!”
Harry was left alone on the carpet while Sirius picked up James’s mahogany wand from the couch. He didn’t simply hand it to him—he accompanied him to the door. It was clear what Sirius was trying to do, and James wished it was unnecessary.
Whose stupid decision was it to have a frosted glass window built into the front door? James wished he could see through it. That way, he’d know there was nothing to worry about. His fear was silly; they were protected by the strongest charm there was. But irrational doubt crept in. Maybe Sirius and Remus had been followed?
James could hear Lily behind him in the living room. She was talking to Harry, saying how it was late and he was probably tired. “I'm just going to put him to bed, alright?" she called out.
James opened the door.
At first, there was nothing outside. Just the cold winds of late October. But there was this feeling he couldn’t shake. Suddenly, a whistle from inside the house started harmonizing with the wind. James turned around to find the source of the noise. It was a sneakoscope. He’d bought it as a joke. “See," James remembered telling Lily, “now there’s nothing to worry about." She’d giggled. James loved making Lily laugh.
“James, look out!"
Over the years, James’s experience running around the Hogwarts castle at night and getting into trouble had sharpened his instincts. He ducked—or rather, dove to the ground—just in time to avoid the beam of light shooting out of Sirius's wand.
He’s here, James realized. He glanced behind him. Lily was frozen on the stairs, holding Harry. Remus jumped to his feet.
“Lily, take Harry and go!” James shouted. “It’s him! Go! Run! We'll hold him off!”
Remus didn’t think twice. He leapt after Lily. “Run, Lily!" he said. “I’ll cover you!"
James got up. There he was—Voldemort—right in front of him. James was standing under the doorframe. He once heard that during earthquakes, that was the safest place to be. He didn’t feel safe now.
The Dark Lord raised his wand. James was quicker. He stunned Voldemort and grabbed Sirius by the arm. “We have to defend the stairs! He’ll get into the house, but he can't get up the stairs!"
The two ran to the bottom of the stairway. James put up a shield charm, and Sirius fired hex after hex at Voldemort. It didn’t seem to faze him. He advanced, step by step. It was eerie how calm he was. Even though Voldemort was outnumbered, he knew he was the strongest in the room.
Voldemort raised his wand, and with a burst of red light, James’s shield broke. The blast knocked James back, his head hitting the third step. Thank Merlin it was wood and not stone. Sirius was less lucky—he was thrown to the other side of the room and crashed into a shelf.
James looked up. The Dark Lord stood above him, wand aimed at his face. James’s own wand has landed on the seventh step—just out of reach. There was nothing he could do.
For years, James would say he didn’t know what came over him in that moment. But the truth was, he thought of Lily. How beautiful she was, humming to herself in the kitchen while she cooked. The way the morning light from the east-facing window gave the illusion that her hair was glowing. Her refusal to use magic in the kitchen. “You wizards are too used to relying on magic,” she’d said. “Some things are better done with your hands.”
James closed his hand into a fist and threw it upward.
Voldemort was stunned—not by magic, but by surprise. James took the chance and kicked him back. Voldemort stumbled, and Sirius, now recovered, rushed to help James to his feet.
“Nice one, James!" Sirius laughed.
"Yeah, yeah. Go!”
They ran upstairs. Lily and Remus had barricaded themselves in the nursery. Sirius turned and shouted something James couldn’t hear—but he didn’t need to. Lily had a lamp hanging just above the stairway—not quite a chandelier, but big enough to block the path. It came crashing down at Sirius's command.
“What now?" James asked frantically.
"I don't know, let me think!” Sirius replied.
The lamp flew sideways and Voldemort approached.
“Padfoot, what do we do?” James pressed.
"We’re no good standing here like stationary targets, we need to split up,” Sirius said. James could imagine the gears shifting in his friend's head. "What model Nimbus do you have?”
"I have a Skyglider!” James answered. Voldemort was halfway up the stairs now.
"A Skyglider?" Sirius raised a brow disapprovingly. “Really?"
“Does it matter right now?"
“Right! Accio Skyglider!"
The broom smashed through the tall living room window as it came flying towards Sirius's hand. Sirius caught it with ease and jumped on top, shooting straight towards the Dark Lord. He fired spells and hexes and general tauntings while circling Voldemort from above, while James attacked from the ground as well.
It seemed to be working for a while. It was a simple, yet effective plan, like the best plans always were. Voldemort was genuinely overwhelmed.
But they couldn't keep it up forever. Voldemort fired back, and he was shooting to kill. Sirius dodged two concerning beams of green light, but the third one almost got him. He had to swirl upside down to avoid it by a hair, but by the time he got back upright, he was flying straight into the wall. Sirius crashed.
James didn't think, he charged towards Voldemort, who was now standing on the top of the stairs. It was a rash decision, but he didn't have any other ideas. Voldemort unfortunately saw it coming; he manoeuvred to the right and shoved James headfirst down the stairs.
The room faded to black.
Lily couldn't break down now; she had to remain strong. She couldn't even concentrate on anything other than the stream of protection charms she was casting over Harry. Remus was busy with the door, casting charm after charm. When he was satisfied, he moved over the dresser, the chair, and any other furniture he could find.
“It won't hold for long!" Remus yelled and backed away.
And it didn't. There was a loud THUD, and then another, and then the whole door exploded. The dresser slid across the room, the chair flew at Lily; by sheer luck it missed her. Lord Voldemort strode in. Slowly, as if it was a mere errand he was running. Lily looked up at him in horror, then at the door, but James and Sirius weren't there—who knows what happened to them. Lily shielded Harry with her body, turning her back on the danger.
“Piss off!" Remus shouted at the Dark Lord, right before firing five or six hexes in a row; Lily lost count. She turned around to look, but Voldemort countered them all. With a flick of Voldemort’s wand, Remus was sent flying onto the dresser. Lily screamed, but Remus didn't bounce back. Voldemort approached her.
“I love you, Harry," Lily whispered and shifted her hold on the baby so that she was blocking him with her body once again. She aimed her wand up at Voldemort. “Stand back!” she warned, although she didn't feel that confident in her threat.
Voldemort stopped, four paces ahead of her. “Move aside," he hissed. His voice was uncanny; there was something nonhuman about it.
“No."
“Move!" Voldemort ordered again.
“No!”
Voldemort let out a breath. He raised his wand. His smile was sickening. Lily knew what was coming.
“I love you, Harry, so, so much,” she repeated.
“Avada Kedavra!"
Lily flinched. She braced herself. Nothing happened. Was that what being dead feels like? But it wasn't peaceful, nor was it quiet like she’d imagined. She opened her eyes to see Remus, who wasn't only conscious, but currently body wrestling Voldemort. If she wasn't mortified, she would've surely laughed—it was absurd.
“Run! Get out of here!" Remus yelled at her.
But Lily didn't get so far. By the time she got to the door (the blown-up remains, at least), Voldemort managed to hex Remus off of him. Lily glanced back. “Remus!"
It all happened too quickly. Voldemort yelled the Unforgivable Curse, but this time his wand was aimed at Harry. Lily heard herself shriek, she felt her legs buckle under her. Then the whole room lit up—first green, then blinding white light. It was as if the room exploded, and black ash had fallen everywhere. But something had gone wrong.
When it was over, Lily's ears still rang, and Voldemort was gone. Lily checked on Harry. He was blinking back at her, other than a new scar on his forehead, he was completely fine. Thank Merlin, he was alive!
“Is he gone?" Lily asked. Remus stumbled to his feet as well.
“I think so,” Remus replied. “Come on, let's go check on the others.”
"Hey! James! Wake up, love."
James blinked. The world was fuzzy around him. His head throbbed but he looked up in spite of it. Lily was there, sitting on the hard floor beside him. He forced himself up with effort.
“Hey, hey, slowly," Lily said, but supported him anyway. Harry was sitting in her lap, unusually quiet and wrapped in blankets.
Sweet aromas filled the air as Lily uncorked a potion bottle. The scent didn't help his headache. The bottle was labeled in Lily's handwriting, but James couldn't read it without his glasses. On second thought, he might not be able to focus on the writing at all in his condition.
“You're concussed," Lily explained as she poured the dark liquid into a yellow teacup. “Here, drink this. Slowly."
James took the cup. He wasn't a fan of healing potions—they always tasted bad. But he wasn't a stranger to injuries either, just as much as the next Quidditch player. He drank it all in one gulp.
“Ugh!" James yelped. His head exploded. It was like the freezing sensation of eating ice cream too fast, but ten times worse.
“I warned you.” Lily smiled, and James felt instantly better. He must have squinted at her, because she handed him his glasses next.
“You'd think there’s some magical way to fix your terrible eyesight, but no…” Lily mumbled.
Pushing his glasses up his nose hurt too. His nose must be broken as well (apart from being very bloody), but finally he could see. They were at the bottom of the stairs, and James pieced together that he must've fallen. Lily's-not-chandelier was broken on the floor just a few steps from them.
He looked at Harry, processing what happened. He was alive, but his forehead was hurt. “What happened?" James asked.
Lily sighed. “I don't know. He tried to kill him, but… he couldn't.”
“What do you mean?"
“He used the Killing Curse. Twice," she explained. “Once on me, and Remus stopped him. Then he used it on Harry, only no one could stop him.”
James had a hard time keeping up—it might have been the confusion still lingering from his healing concussion. "So, how…?" he started, and then rephrased. “The scar, it's from the curse?"
“Yes," Lily answered. “It means it landed, but it… backfired, I think.”
"Did you…" James wanted to ask did you kill him, but he didn't know how to phrase such a question. Thankfully, Lily understood.
“That's the weird thing. He disappeared.”
“Maybe he ran," Remus theorized. He had just appeared from the kitchen, and relief washed over James—he was alive as well. “Can he get up?" he asked Lily.
Lily assessed. She would've been a healer by now, if she wasn't busy hiding her infant son. The thought felt like a slap in the face. “Yeah, get him to the kitchen."
With his friend’s support, James limped to the kitchen. Remus sat him on a chair. Lily followed; Harry was pressed to her hip. She juggled holding the baby and mixing ingredients in a kitchen cauldron. Sirius was also there. He was leaning against the counter and holding his side with his hand, but evidently in better condition than James. The sombre ambience echoed on the ceramic tiling on the walls and made the air thick and heavy.
“You're good, mate?" Sirius asked. James could tell by the restraint in his friend’s voice that he was in pain. Maybe he wasn't so much better. But James sighed in relief—they were all alive.
James nodded. It wasn't the best decision considering his headache, but he was surprised to discover it was almost gone. “And you?" he asked.
Sirius held up his thumbs, then winced in pain and clutched his side once again. "Broken rib,” he explained. "I’ve seen worse, though.”
"Here you go,” Lily said, pouring a pearly mixture into two glasses and handing them to each of her injured patients. "It might sting a little, but it'll fix your nose and your rib." She looked at James and Sirius respectively as she spoke.
It was minty this time, so the taste wasn't too bad. Though it did more than sting a little—James yelped again as his nose sharply snapped into place, but he did feel better.
“Ow!" Sirius muttered, confirming the potion had the same effect on him.
"How about you, Moony?" James asked, responding to how Remus chuckled at both of their reactions.
“Oh, I’m good, thanks to her," Remus said, gesturing at Lily.
Lily smiled. “He was my first patient. I can attest—he took it way better than you two."
“I have a high pain tolerance." Remus shrugged.
James chuckled as well. He was so relieved that his closest friends—his family—were all alive. “Honestly,” he started to say, “I don't know what I would've done if my friends…”
James trailed off. His thoughts were racing faster than his words could ever catch up to. A quick headcount would show they were missing a Marauder, and the attack was on the house in Godric’s Hollow. No one should have been able to find them here—let alone Voldemort himself. Sure, Sirius and Remus could’ve been followed, but the only way to enter the property was if the Secret Keeper willingly gave the follower the address. And they had burned Peter’s note.
That could only mean one thing. One thing James refused to believe. The sting of betrayal was sharper than any curse the Dark Lord could throw at him.
“That rat!” James yelled suddenly, making Lily flinch in surprise. “He—he sold us out!”
He didn’t even know how to react until he heard himself start to laugh. It was a cold sort of laugh—the irony of the situation. Lily and Sirius exchanged worried glances.
“Don’t you get the joke?” he asked as he stood up with renewed energy. “Pete—Wormtail—ratted us out to Voldemort!”
He met Lily’s careful stare.
“Why don’t you sit down, James?” she offered calmly.
“No!” James said abruptly. He stopped laughing and instead grew cold and serious. He walked out of the kitchen.
Lily followed him, still holding Harry as if he would disappear the moment she let go, with both Sirius and Remus behind her. “Where are you going?” she inquired, stepping over the broken not-chandelier.
“Out.”
James was furious. Not only that, he was confused too. His head almost ached from the constant stream of thoughts. He needed to find Peter. He wanted to know why. No—he needed to know. Why would he do that? Not only betray James, his oldest friend, but his entire family? Why would he endanger Harry? Why would he betray his trust?
James simply couldn’t fathom it.
“James! Stop!” Lily yelled. He did, and she almost ran to catch up to him. It started raining, but neither of them cared.
“Calm down, please. I know how betrayed you feel, but we can talk about it. Just—please don’t do anything you’ll come to regret later.”
“No, you don’t get it!” he said. “I need to find him.”
He turned to walk away, but Lily grabbed onto his arm, stopping him in his tracks.
“Just listen to me!” she insisted.
Lily’s tears mixed with the ash on her face as they streamed down her cheeks. It pained James to see her so upset, so he turned his gaze to the bundle of blankets she was holding. Harry wasn’t crying—it was eerily uncharacteristic of him to remain so silent. His big green eyes stared back up at James questioningly. James could see it so clearly—definitely Lily’s eyes. And then there was the scar. It was lightning-shaped, which wasn't unusual for magically induced injuries. He kissed him right above it.
Lily took in a sharp breath.
“Just promise me one thing,” she whispered faintly. “Promise me you won’t kill him. Don’t let him make you into a murderer.”
James was surprised.
He wasn’t planning to kill Peter.
Was he?
“I promise,” James answered. He meant it. He glanced up at his friends, still lingering at a safe distance behind.
“Are you coming?”
Sirius remained silent, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground.
Remus dared to meet James’s glare.
“James, I don’t think—”
“I’m gonna go either way,” James cut him off, trying to restrain his anger. It wasn’t Remus’s fault they were attacked. “Are you coming?”
Remus shut his mouth. They both looked helpless, not knowing how to react.
They had never seen him act like this, James realized bitterly.
He was usually the one who talked sense into Sirius when he acted recklessly. He was the one who calmed Remus when he was being self-destructive. He was the one who reassured Peter every time his insecurities got to him.
That last thought hurt him—almost physically—but it was true. James held the group together. Sure, they’d seen him get mad, or passionate. Hell, they’d had their fights over the years.
But they’d never seen him this angry.
James couldn’t even remember a time he’d been this angry.
Without waiting for their approval, James swiftly turned on his heel and Apparated.