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

:: Chapter 8 : Old friends and acquaintances ::

"Long time no see, huh?" said James with a smile. "By your reactions, I assume you had missed me."

Sirius and Remus chuckled, still watery eyed.

"I still can't believe it, James. After fourteen years. . ." Sirius said thickly, not bothering to wipe the moisture on his cheeks. "You're just. . . here."

"We never dreamed that we would see you again," said Remus, staring at James hungrily. "James. . .but. . .how?"

James shrugged lightly, staring at his hands. "It's me. Don't know what happened myself."

"How did--?" Sirius began uncertainly. James answered the unspoken question without hesitating.

"Happened about two days ago. I woke up in my coffin, can you believe that?" He laughed humourlessly. "Had to blast open the lid and climb up."

Sirius and Remus listened with rapt attention, and watching numbly as their old, once dead best friend began talking. It was all so surreal. James's voice then began cracking as he remembered.

"I hurried to our house, and all that was in my mind was terror, you know? I thought that Voldemort had killed them. Lily and Harry.

"I'd never been so terrified in my life. . . Then I reached our house, or what remained of it, at least," said James sadly. "There was nobody there. And I assumed that Harry and Lily were dead. . . I realised that I had been a failure."

"James--" began Remus weakly. James stopped him with a pointed look and carried on.

"Then, Albus and Mcgonagall arrived and explained the whole thing. About how Harry was alive. About how he had survived the killing curse. About how fourteen years had passed. It was too much information."

"I'm sure it was," said Remus softly, still watching him, his eyes glinting with something James couldn't identify.

"I don't know what to say," said Sirius with a sad smile. "I can't believe this and yet, you're right in front of me."

"It is me, Padfoot," said James with a smile. Sirius's face broke into a smile when James addressed him with his old nickname.

"Prongs," murmured Sirius slowly.

James still kept smiling as he stared at them with as much intensity as those brown and grey eyes had as they stared back.

"You're older," said James. It was a simple statement. Remus had many grey hairs, streaking the natural brown, and he had lines on his face. Sirius didn't look too old. But he did have lines on his face, by his eyes. He had always sported a tan, but there was none of that now. His hair hadn't turned grey. He was thinner, now. Far too thin.

But what gave away everything were his eyes. Even Dumbledore's eyes were younger. Sirius's eyes were gaunt, haunted, containing a sadness that looked as though it was destined to never disappear. It revealed everything about what he had to endure, about all the pain and suffering he had to go through.

"What has Azkaban done to you?" whispered James, staring at Sirius. Sirius merely shook his head, wanting to switch to brighter topics.

"You haven't aged a day," Sirius said softly, staring at the bespectacled man in front of him. So young, though in all rights, he should have been as old as the other two.

"I know," said James with a lopsided grin. "I stayed in a guest room at Hogwarts."

"A guest room?" Remus asked, looking surprised.

"A room we didn't know about?" Sirius asked incredulously.

"Yeah," James said with a chuckle. "I was really shocked as well."