James (Jamie to his friends) Sirius Potter was not having a great first day of term. As per usual, the Potter family made it to Platform 9 ¾ just in the nick of time. This was usually just fine with Jamie, since his best friend/cousin Fred would always save him a seat with their friend group. It would have been fine today, as well, except now his friend group included his ex-girlfriend, Eloise DeCamp - his very recently ex-girlfriend. As in, just-broke-up-with-him-a-week-before-sch ool-started, recent.

Since he was late enough that any other compartments he might’ve sat in were full, he ended up sitting right next to her for the entire miserable journey. And if it wasn’t bad enough to see her up close and smell her and hear her beautiful laugh, she just would not stop being so bloody nice to him. As if she hadn’t torn his beating heart into a thousand pieces just six days, five hours, and thirty-eight minutes ago (not that he was counting).

He didn’t even get a brief respite when the prefects had their meeting, as neither of them were prefects. The two of them just sat there in uncomfortable silence, waiting for Fred, Daniel, and Isabelle to come back. For the first time in his life, he was jealous of those nerds.

Needless to say, he was looking forward to the welcome feast like a starving man looks forward to…well, a feast. Now all that (literally) stood between him and his usual spot at the Gryffindor table was his stupid little brother.

"Move it, Al," he grunted.

"No, you've had it for five years. Dad said it was my turn." Albus crossed his arms, glaring up at his older brother.

"I don't give a shit, get out of my way." Jamie took a step towards him, and the back of Al's legs hit the bench. Fred, who was already seated, snickered.

"Bad timing, kid, he's just spent the whole train ride talking to She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You might want to try again later.� Jamie growled at him, but Albus ignored his cousin entirely.

"Come on, Jamie. You know I'm right. Quit being a dick and give me the cloak.�

Jamie took a step closer, towering over Al by about a foot and a half, and lightly pushed his chest.

"Make me, Albie.�

Al blushed furiously. Jamie knew it was a blow below the belt, to use their grandmother's most embarrassing nickname for him in the middle of the Great Hall, but he didn't particularly give a shit. They'd had this argument every day since the beginning of summer. He was sick of repeating himself, sick of seeing Al's stupid little disappointed face. Sick of feeling guilty for not wanting to part with the stupid cloak.

Albus let out a frustrated huff, and shoved Jamie out of his way as he headed back to the Slytherin table.

"You're an arsehole," he muttered, his voice cracking as he fought off tears.

Jamie watched him for a moment, guilt ballooning in his chest so that he could hardly breathe. No, he deserved it, he told himself. The little twerp had it coming.

Closing his eyes to dissipate the oncoming headache, he sat and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make it have that effortlessly cool floppiness that always eluded him.

"That was harsh, man. You know he hates being called that," Fred muttered under his breath.

Jamie just grunted in response.

"And he does kind of have a point,� Fred continued. “Teddy gave it to you your first year. It's his dad’s cloak too, you know.�

"Fred, mate," Jamie ground out, "I'd literally die for you, but if you don't shut up right now, I'm gonna punch your lights out.�

Fred raised his eyebrows, and held his hands up defensively.

"Just trying to help, mate.�

"I don't need any help,� Jamie snapped. “How about you focus on yourself, mate. I'll give Al the cloak when you ask out Heather, how about that?"

He knew it was too far as soon as he said it. Fred had been in love with Heather O'Shaughnessy for three years, and had never gotten up the courage to ask her out. Jamie was the only person he'd ever told.

Fred sat frozen for a second, eyes hard as he looked at his best friend. When he finally spoke, it was in a small voice, much quieter than his usual boisterous drawl.

"Al was right. You are an arsehole.�

Before he had a chance to respond, the doors to the Great Hall flung open to reveal Professor Longbottom, followed by the winding river of unsorted first years. Jamie watched them pass in silence, sparing a tight smile for his sister and younger cousin, Hugo.

He ignored the sorting. After all, it would be the same as it was every year, right? Little kids, putting on a hat, their house going berserk, rinse and repeat. He kept an eye on Lily, but instead used his time plotting his biting reply to Fred. If this had happened a couple years ago, he knew exactly what he would have done. He’d have slipped a treat from Uncle George’s shop into Fred’s dessert, everyone would laugh, and they would be best friends again by the time they got back to the dorms. But they weren’t little kids anymore, and this wasn’t some silly disagreement over the Quidditch World Cup, or who had the better belch. They were sixth years, after all. Maybe they were just growing apart, in the natural way that childhood friends sometimes did. After all, no real friend would have sided with their dumb little cousin over their best friend-

A blood-curdling scream ripped apart his inner monologue, making him sit bolt upright on the bench. A crowd of first years was forming around the one currently on the stool. Jamie’s stomach lurched. There was a familiar mop of red hair at the center of the commotion, and he was on his way over before he had a chance to think about it.

"Out of my way," he snarled at a couple third years in his path. "Lily! Lily!�

He finally pushed through the crowd gathering around her, and crouched next to his little sister.

"Are you okay? What happened?" She was shaking, looking smaller than he’d last remembered, with the sorting hat nearly covering her large hazel eyes. He pushed the hat back, and wrapped an arm around her.

"Jamie, my...my hand! It's gone!" Looking down, he was astonished to see that she was right. Her left hand was gone - no, it was…flickering in and out of existence.

"Who did this to you, Lil?" Jamie was gripping her shoulders now, searching her face for any clues.

"N-no one. I was just sitting here and it started happening," she whimpered.

"What is going on over here? Mr. Potter, Miss Potter, explain yourselves!" Jamie had never been more grateful to hear Professor McGonagall's lilting Scottish brogue.

"Professor, she's...her hand, I don't know what's happening," he stammered out, trying very hard to prevent himself from crying in front of the entire school.

The headmistress' eyes widened as she peered down at Lily's hand, still oscillating in and out of existence.

"Has this happened before, Miss Potter?" McGonagall's eyes didn't stray as she interrogated the little girl.

“No!" wailed Lily. Jamie gripped her tighter to his side.

"Professor, what is it? Is she going to be alright?�

Professor McGonagall seemed very far away for a moment before she answered.

“Both of you, come with me. Mr. Weasley," she turned to Fred, who Jamie had not even noticed was standing right beside him, "would you kindly find their brother and bring him to my office?"

Fred opened his mouth to protest, but her piercing glare made him simply nod and scurry away through the crowd.

The Headmistress sharply clapped twice, and addressed the crowd of students.

“First years, line up once more. The rest of you, return to your seats at once. Surely you have better things to be doing than standing around gawping!�

“Wait Professor!� Lily cried. “I haven’t been sorted yet!�

Just as the Headmistress was formulating her response, the seam of the hat tore open and bellowed, “HUFFLEPUFF!�

There was unsure applause from the yellow table, and Lily gave Professor Longbottom a watery smile as he kindly removed the hat from her head.

As he followed Professor McGonagall to the Headmistress' office, Lily's good hand gripping his for dear life, Jamie had a very bad feeling that this year would be even weirder than he could have predicted.

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace in the Headmistress’ office with far less grace than he normally would. As soon as he spotted her, he headed right for his daughter. His heart pounded wildly as he kneeled down and took her into his arms. Harry only released her when she began to protest.

“Daddy, you’re getting me all sooty. I’m fine now!�

He sat back on his heels, taking in the sight of her. Though seeing her in Hogwarts robes was still a shock, she really did seem fine. Her wild red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her big hazel eyes shone brightly at him from her round, freckled face. He spun her around, and examined each precious limb.

“The letter said you were hurt. What happened, pumpkin?� Her pert nose wrinkled at the babyish nickname.

“I was hoping perhaps you could answer that question for us, Mr. Potter.� Harry finally tore his gaze from Lily, and realized that they were not alone. Al and Jamie were seated behind Lily, and the Headmistress herself was stood behind her desk, her gaze soft over her spectacles as she awaited his answer.

“What do you mean?� He stood, but kept his hand firmly on Lily’s shoulder.

“The symptoms that Miss Potter displayed earlier today were…well, I can’t say I’ve seen anything like it, in all my years of teaching. Madam Pomfrey has taken a look at her, of course, but we both agree that she appears to be in fine health now that they have passed,� His former professor tried to appear calm, but there was undercurrent of concern in her voice that he hadn’t heard for many years.

“Hold on, what symptoms? She was perfectly fine when we dropped her off at the station.� Harry was beginning to lose patience.

“Her hand, Dad,� Jamie spoke up, his voice trembling. His hand unconsciously swiped through his mop of auburn hair. “Her hand kept coming and going…going see through and coming back.�

Harry shook his head, astonished. “What?�

“It’s true, Daddy,� Lily whispered. “It was really scary. Can I go home?�

He looked down into her pleading eyes, and spoke before he even considered her question.

“Of course you can, sweetie. Why don’t you go on ahead, and let me have a moment with Professor McGonagall?�

She fiercely hugged him around his middle, and ran over to the fireplace. Harry hardly registered the sympathetic smile he got from the Headmistress as he watched her disappear into the green flames.

“Boys,� she suggested softly, “why don’t you make sure she arrived safely?�

Jamie and Al exchanged a glance, obviously hoping they could stay and hear the adult’s conversation. A raised eyebrow from Harry sealed their fate, and they followed their sister through the floo with only a few complaints.

Once they were gone, Harry sank into the chair that Jamie had previously occupied, and pushed up his glasses in order to rub his eyes.

“Is it true?� He mumbled after a moment.

“I’m afraid so, Potter. I saw it with my own eyes.� Any other time, Harry would have laughed, and teased her about her continued refusal to address him by anything other than his surname.

“All I ever wanted was for them to have normal lives,� he said instead, shaking his head. “It’s her first day, Professor.�

“Go home and take care of her,� she replied with great care. “Take a few days, and monitor her symptoms. If she’s perfectly fine, bring her back.� The other option was left to hang heavily in the air between them.

“What could…I can’t think of anything to make sense of it.� He ruffled his hair in frustration as Jamie had done just moments before, and the Headmistress bit back a smile.

“Take the boys too, while you’re at it,� she said lightly. “No, Potter,� she interrupted his outburst, “I’ll put a team together, and we’ll do some research. Your job in this is to be their father. Before you got here, those boys were scared stiff. I think they could use a little recovery time as well.�

“But, Professor…� Harry tried to protest, in spite of the relief flooding his body.

“Oh please, Mr. Potter,� she scoffed, “You know as well as I, no one really pays much attention to the first days of term.� She smiled at him conspiratorially, and he laughed for what felt like the first time that day.

“Besides, if those children are anything like their parents, a few days out of school will not impact their success in the slightest,� she finished, with a conspiratorial smile.

The morning of September 2nd dawned bright and beautiful at Potter Manor. Golden bright rays of sunshine illuminated the apricots, coppers, and ambers in Ginny’s long hair, and Harry toyed with the idea of staying in bed with her well into the afternoon. Just as he began to draft a letter to Flanders in his head - it hit him. There would be no long, hazy morning in bed enjoying their new status as empty-nesters. Not only were all of his children currently very much in the nest, but he had greater problems that simply couldn’t be put off.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, and headed downstairs to begin breakfast.

Harry was still grumpy about the dashing of his plans when he made it into the office that morning a little after nine. He was quietly getting stuck into his pile of paperwork when there was a knock at his door. He grunted in the way he always did before his second cup of coffee, and Flanders let himself in.

“Morning, sir. I’ve got those test results for you from yesterday. Also, I just wanted to apologize for not having them done before, I honestly didn’t think-�

“It’s fine, Mike. Thanks,� he tersely interrupted him, and thankfully the wanker knew a dismissal when he heard one.

One lingering trip to the break room later, he was back where he started. He had to try not to laugh at himself, the 'Savior of the Wizarding World', paralyzed by an envelope.

Harry had tried to deny it, but he’d had a feeling from the very beginning. He didn’t really need to see the results of the DNA tests to know exactly who they were. He’d known the moment he saw their faces - terrified, confused, and so heart-wrenchingly young - that they were exactly who they seemed to be. He had to doubt, that was his job. It was who he was. It was what had saved his ass, time and time again. So, he’d doubted the veracity of that gut feeling as strongly as he’d ever doubted anything in his life.

He hadn’t fallen apart, but had stood his ground and treated them like common criminals. He’d followed procedure, and called for backup, and tried with all his might not to look them in the eye. Tried not to hear the pleading voices he knew so well from dementor attacks, and nightmares about gauzy veils and crumbling stone walls. He’d even passed the case off to Flanders, as if determined to show the universe just how deeply he doubted. As if, he didn’t take it seriously, it would cease to be serious. As if the truth would become any less true by neglecting it.

But this would be the end of denial. Though he scrambled furiously, he could find no other hoops for them to jump through once this one was cleared. And that scared him more than he was willing to admit.

In the intervening years, these people had become untouchable in his mind. They were ephemeral visions; mirages, touching his life only for the briefest of moments. If not for the very real evidence left behind: the motorbike, the map, his living and breathing godson, he might very well have begun to doubt that they ever had been real at all. That he might have just...made them up.

It wasn’t so much that he worried how they came to be there in the first place; no, in fact, that was almost the least of his worries. The thing that had kept him up into the wee hours last night was the possibility of regaining those titans - his personal pantheon of gods - and having to lose them all over again. Because wherever they had come from, they surely wouldn’t be able to stay. Neither can live while the other survives, his brain supplied bitterly.

Sweat trickled down his spine, at odds with the chill that came in from his open window. He steeled himself, and grabbed the envelope. It felt quite light, for a document that would inevitably turn his world on its ear. Before he could change his mind once more, he slid a finger under the flap and tore it open.

As he read, the world went to static around him. Harry didn’t know how long he sat there, frozen, before his brain started working once more.

Without instruction, his feet led him to the holding cell. He took in the heavy steel door, pictured the interior in his mind. Hundreds, maybe thousands of criminals had spent the night here since he’d become an auror, but he had never considered until now just how cruel the room was. Well, at least their first night there would be their last.

Though every fiber of his being was telling him not to open the door, to escape the inevitable hurt before it could happen, he heard a voice from deep within that held him in place. The voice that laughed like a million dazzling fireworks when he made a sly joke about a coworker, that cracked like a whip when the kids were being little demons. That soothed his worst nightmares, and turned hard as stone when he berated himself. The voice that tantalized him in his waking hours and teased him in his dreams. And just as it had been the last time he’d seen this particular group of people, as he opened the door, his last thought was of Ginny.