Once I had a love and it was a gas,
Soon turned out; had a heart of glass.
Seemed like the real thing, only to find,
Much of mistrust, love's gone behind.
Once I had a love and it was divine,
Soon found out I was losin' my mind
It seemed like the real thing but I was so blind,
Much of mistrust, love's gone behind.
James recovered - slowly. He was moved back to the Potter house the next day (waking up groggy, unable to say very much, quickly falling back to sleep), but Dumbledore declared this a temporary solution. He told Lily to prepare to leave at a moment's notice.
After months of being regarded as junior members of the Order, the marauders and their friends suddenly had all eyes on them.
At the next Order meeting, which James insisted on attending despite his weakened state, there were definitely whispers.
Seven kids - three of them wealthy heirs to pureblood houses, two muggle born, a werewolf, a novice Healer - what made them so special? Could they be trusted? They had survived the war so far, against all the odds. Were they just lucky, or was there something more to it? Who were these kids, who had escaped six death eaters and somehow reversed an almost incomprensible curse?
The had gathered in a small cottage, somewhere in the Peak District. It was a small living room, but the Order was small by then.
At the end of the regular meeting - which had really become more of a remembrance service for people they'd lost since the last time they'd met - Dumbledore asked Lily and James to stay behind while everyone else headed home. In turn, James asked Remus, Sirius and Peter to stay.
"Are you sure?" Sirius whispered, urgently, "After everything that's happened...?"
"--After everything that's happened I want my best friends nearby." James replied. Remus felt a swell of pride at that - to James, good sportsmanship extended to every element of his life. To mistrust the people he loved would be highly dishonourable.
Sirius folded his arms, but didn't argue.
James sat in a chintz armchair, his back straight, his face set. He looked perfectly healthy, unless you really knew him. His cheeks were more hollow, his skin paler, and - though everyone was pretending they hadn't noticed - his jet black hair now had a few threads of grey. Lily had brought a blanket to lay over his lap, but he kept pushing it off, irritably.
"I'm fine," he muttered under his breath. "Leave me be!"
"There's no need to be like that!" Lily hissed back. She was looking a lot paler, too, her tired face lined with worry. Remus had never seen Lily and James snap at each other before. It felt horrible.
Harry was fussing, flailing his arms and making a face. Lily was taking no chances now - they went everywhere as a family, or nowhere at all.
"Shh," she jiggled him on her hip, "Quiet now, Mummy and Daddy are busy..."
"Give him here," Sirius held out his arms, "We'll have a little play, won't we Harry?" He lifted the little boy up, and Harry squirmed and giggled delightedly.
He wasn't saying many words yet - 'Da-da', 'Ma-ma', 'No!' and, for some reason, 'bike!' were about the extent of it. But he knew his godfather. Remus wondered if it was the smell of old leather. His own experiences with Harry were hit and miss. They got on ok until the kid started crying - and Remus was no good at pretend play, like Sirius was.
