Return Of The Father (Harry Potter fanfiction) **COMPLETED**

: Chapter 3 - Baffling developments :

Time seemed to have stopped. James still clutched the blue blanket against his chest as images of Harry flashed through his mind.

Had Harry cried? Screamed? Had he died as he waited for his father to burst through the doors and save him?

The thought broke his heart.

"I'm so sorry. . . Harry, I let you die. . . I'm so, so sorry. . ."

Lily would have tried to protect him. Voldemort must have killed her then. Had she waited for him to come too?

"Lily. . . Forgive me. . ."

Voldemort would have gone after Remus and Sirius. They would be dead too. He had lost everyone he cared about.

He continued rocking his body back and forth, continued muttering to himself. The plan had gone all wrong! How could they have even thought of questioning Remus's loyalty? He would have to go and apologise at once.

But Remus is dead.

"No. . .no Moony, Padfoot, I'm sorry. . . Plan. . .all wrong. . . Harry, my Harry. . ."

***

"But Albus, you can't be serious! James Potter is dead!" Minerva exclaimed, straightening the folds of her emerald green robes, seriously contemplating if the wizened headmaster had finally cracked. It certainly appeared to be.

"But that is what I too thought, Minerva," Dumbleore said softly, still staring at the man's silhouette. "I had believed this man, this man who still remains oblivious to our conversation, to be a Death Eater. But listen to him. Do you think any skilled Death Eater would be able to imitate them? Earlier, I had touched his shoulder and he had looked up. You should have seen his face, Minerva. That kind of grief cannot be acted out. But just to make sure, Veritaserum would be suitable. If you would, my dear Professor?" Dumbledore said, extending his hand expectantly.

Minerva slowly brought it out of her robes. It had taken quite an effort to acquire it from Severus. The man had been most insistent on knowing what she had needed it for.

Only then did she pay attention to the broken man. What Albus had stated was absolutely true. The grief was pronounced in those cries. He was delirious, murmuring something about failing Harry and Lily. Minerva stared at the man helplessly, wanting only to help that distraught man in some way possible, to help him overcome his grief.

Dumbledore took a measured step forward, and clasped his hand on the man's shoulder carefully.

"James?" He asked gently.

The man's head snapped up when he heard his name. Minerva gasped and took an involuntary step back out of pure shock. It was indeed the face of James Potter, with extremely pain filled, bloodshot, hazel eyes. That was all it took.

Those eyes. There was something that Voldemort would never understand, what he never possessed--love. The grief in the man's eyes was that of a parent who was hurting, a parent who had lost everything. No one would be able to imitate that.

"James," said Dumbledore softly.

The man looked up, his eyes unfocused.

"They're dead."

Minerva's heart clenched at the hoarse, raspy voice.

"Who's dead, James?" asked Dumbledore.

"They killed my boy," choked the man. "They killed Lily, Padfoot, Moony. . . I'm so sorry Harry. . .forgive me. . . I didn't lie to you, I tried my best. . .but I failed. . ."

"You didn't fail, James," said Dumbledore, firmly but gently. "You are alright."

"I am," said James, still rocking himself. "But they aren't."

Minerva's eyes began filling with tears.

"Do you remember me?" asked Dumbledore gently. "It's Albus."

"Dumbledore?" The man croaked squinting.

"Indeed, James."

"Leave me alone, Albus. Can't you see that I want to be left alone? I've just lost my family. Lily and Harry are dead!" He said hoarsely.

"Listen to me, James," Albus said evenly. "Harry is still alive."

James head rose a little higher. But now, his eyes were alight with plain fury. How dare the old man try and instill false hope into his mind?

"How dare you say that to me, Dumbledore? This is not the time for you to tell lies! I want to mourn for my family in peace!"

"James--"

"HE'S DEAD!"

"James," Albus spoke over his yells. "Voldemort tried to kill Harry, but the killing curse rebounded and hit him instead. Your son has been given the name 'the boy who lived' ever since!"

James's expression changed into one mingled with pure shock and hope.

"You-- you aren't lying?"

"Most definitely not!" Minerva said firmly.

"But now, James, I need you to take a bit of Veritaserum to prove your identity," said Dumbledore, still watching him carefully.

"Why?" asked James, his voice still hoarse.

"Dangerous times, James. Death eaters on the loose," lied Dumbledore smoothly.

"Alright, then," he reluctantly agreed. He slowly stood up and walked towards Dumbledore. James allowed the older man to pour three drops of the liquid onto his tongue. Immediately, his eyes went unfocused.

"Now, what is your name?" Albus asked him.

"James Harold Potter," he answered. Minerva inhaled sharply. She had of course, already believed the man to be James, but his answer while under the influence of Veritaserum seemed to instill a sense of finality about the whole matter.

"What year is this?"

"1981."

"And finally, what is your wife's name?"

"Lily Marie Evans."

"Well, that proves it then. This is most definitely James Potter. But how is he alive?" Dumbledore wondered. This piece of news was astounding indeed, something so unheard of. But, he could feel an odd sense of happiness welling up inside him. Harry would finally have a father. Till now, Sirius had been the one closest to a father figure for him.

The effects of the Veritaserum wore off and James's eyes came back to focus.

"So, is it true, Albus? Is Harry alive?" James asked, his eyes now filled with hope and relief. This piece of news was something so incredible, and he knew that it would break him again if it turned out to be false.

"Oh, yes. He is a remarkable boy," Dumbledore said sincerely.

"And Lily?"

Albus looked at the ground silently, knowing that James would understand. James could feel his knees shake him as the reality of the silence struck him at last.

Lily, He thought, filled with the unfamiliar pain of heartache. My Lily. He swallowed the huge lump that had arisen in his throat and turned to Dumbledore expectantly, his eyes still pain filled.

"Well, where is my son?"

Albus sighed, having dreaded this question.

"James, there are a few things you need to know first."

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