Marauders Time Travel : you have so many years of screw ups ahead

the closest draco gets to an apology

The next morning, The Marauders find it acceptable to blow off their debriefing meeting with the golden trio on several grounds.

First and foremost, James is Harry's father, which meant the bespectacled git should be listening to him and not the other way around.

Next, Remus is apparently their professor. Thus, he was the obvious authority figure in this odd future dynamic.

Finally, anyone who knew The Marauders well enough to know about Moony's furry little secret, must also know that every rule put forth to the mischief makers is a rule meant to be broken.

I'm getting out of this castle and I'm going to meet 'old Padfoot' if it kills me! James was especially determined to prove himself to the trio after Harry's lukewarm welcome.

How dare his own son not want to go adventures with him? Even worse, he had been banished to the Room of Requirement like some naughty toddler. The nerve!

The new father is so focused on exacting revenge up on his son that he does not notice the Slytherin prefect blocking the statue of the one-eyed witch.

"What are you tossers doing?" His son's not-boyfriend gestures between the very public corridor and the should-be covert time travelers.

"Don't fret, ickle Malfoy. We're just off for quick stroll through Hogsmeade," James smiles charmingly. And then Muggle London, or Paris or wherever we sodding want!

For some odd reason, Remus does not think James' charms will be enough to deceive the blond and adds, "We want to see if anything's changed in the village."

"Why isn't Scarhead giving you the grand tour, then? Surely, you want some quality time."

"Scarhead? Ahhh. You mean my delightful son."

Remus scrutinizes the Slytherin. "Do you know how he got that scar? It looks ... painful." The werewolf's fingers trail over his own scars hidden beneath the rough wool of his cardigan.

"It hardly matters," Malfoy grinds out. "You lot should really be making a greater effort not to get caught. Potter's your best chance at that. Merlin knows he could get away with murder in this castle."

"We know a bit about not getting caught." Sirius' grin is sharp.

"Besides, the sprog is obviously less than thrilled to have his dad hanging about, no matter how young and dashing I am," James sighs and brings a palm to forehead like a distraught damsel. "Can't say I blame him for being pissed. Could you imagine if Fleamont was traipsing about the castle back in our time?" He fake shudders.

"I imagine I'd get a bit more sleep," Remus grumbles. They ignore him.

"Since we're on the subject, it wouldn't help Harry's, er, mood to know about our little excursion. Do your dear cousin a favor and keep quiet about this. Maybe you could even distract him?" Sirius winks, suggestively.

James wrinkles his nose. "Feel free not to do that last bit."

Malfoy scrutinizes the three, most likely trying to decide if they were worth the trouble. James sincerely hopes he thinks they aren't, but less than a few moments later the Slytherin lets out a resigned sigh.

"Harry really hasn't told you anything, has he?" The Marauders share a look in remembrance of their skipped debriefing meeting. "Look I know the prat is emotionally inept, but he never really learned how to talk you lot, or anyone, for that matter."

"What's that supposed to mean?" James huffs. He feels slightly offended on behalf of his future self.

The Slytherin flicks the lens of James frames before he can swot the fingers away. "You wouldn't leave the tower without your lenses, would you? So why walk into a new world blind?"

James is about to respond with something clever, but Malfoy begins spinning an epic tragedy about a revived Dark Lord and the war he's brought with him. The Marauders knew about Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, of course, but what kind of wizard could go undefeated for over a decade? Malfoy's retelling of events was both increasingly terrifying and incredibly vague.

"What does that have to do with us?" Sirius pulls his eyebrows together. "It's dangerous out there. Fair, but I can't imagine people have stopped walking about. Why should we?"

"You don't have to," Draco shrugs, but his posture is rigid. Lying snake. "if you keep a low profile. In the future you're all, hmm, against the dark lord. If the wrong the person recognizes you..."

James shares a thoughtful look with his best mates. There was obviously more to this story. Yes, they're risk takers, but they're also survivors.

The boys come to an unspoken agreement to remain inside within Hogwarts. They had not traveled twenty years just to die at sixteen. After all, their first time jump could not be their last.

When Malfoy looks satisfies that he has convinced them, he makes to leave. For some inexplicable reason, James grabs hold of his bicep and is left with the rather unfortunate predicament of explaining why.

What comes out is, "Well er, you gave us a lot to think about, and, um, you didn't have to. Anyway, last night wasn't on. You understand." James gives him a lopsided smile and shuffles his hair a bit.

Sirius and Remus are shocked. That was the closest James has ever come to an apology. Malfoy must realize this too, because the smile he gives the elder Potter is almost gentle. James looks away, shy. Malfoy send them a small wave and heads off, leaving the boys wondering why he had been up so early anyway.

"Well wasn't that sweet of you Prongs. Don't go stealing your sprog's boy, now." Sirius coos and wraps an arm around his shoulder. James shoves him off.

They return to the seventh-floor corridor with two figurative and one literal tail between their legs. Sirius often turned into Padfoot to avoid confrontation.

The golden trio stand there looking undeniably concerned. Their arms are full of breakfast food. It looks suspiciously enough to fill three time travelers who haven't ate a thing since dropping into the future. This is when the guilt really starts to set in.

Hermione's eyes narrow on the boys who are suspiciously unharmed and obviously not coming out of the Room of Requirement.

Ron, at least, smiles brightly when he sees them. "Thank, Merlin! We thought you guys had gone back or summat. Anyway, did you lot sleep alright?" He then calls out to Harry who is pacing at the far end of the corridor.

Harry reaches the group with a small smile on his face. He hands a goblet of pumpkin juice to Sirius in greeting.

Since landing in 1996, James has not been able to discern a single emotion on his son's face, but this one was clear: relief.