The Wrong Boy Who Lived (2)

"Merlin!," she said, looking alarmed. "James, he's warm. Steaming, even."

James turned to face her, his eyebrows drew together in a puzzled look as he asked, "Isn't that normal? Look, Arthur's probably warm too…"

He mimicked Lily's action, only to find that Arthur was not in fact warm. He was cold to the touch.

"Lily?" James exclaimed in bewilderment, "He's freezing."

Lily rocked slightly as a green complexion overcame her features – highlighting and contrasting her freckles and red hair. In another situation, James would have probably laughed at her.

He swiped the wild stringy hair on Arthur's head. It was an act of habit.

Ever since he saw that his son had acquired the Potter hair, he found himself trying to quell the intensity of it. It didn't work when his mother started doing it to him, and it was unlikely he would be the one to succeed.

He doubted it would curve its development, but it did make the boy look slightly more put-together.

As his heavy hand pushed the hair aside, he gasped. His heartbeat grew heavy and sluggish, and he found it difficult to swallow.

On the boy's forehead, was a deep jagged cut placed an inch above his eyebrow. It was in the shape of a lightning bolt, and engraved neatly, denoted by its searing red colour.

Lily craned her head to see, after noticing that James had gone mute.

"James…" her voice faded with gravity as she looked at Arthur's scar.

James inclined his head as he sighed tiredly, "Dumbledore. He will know what this means. But first, we need to take Harry and Arthur to St. Mungo's."

And suddenly, the Potters became aware of the weightiness that would follow the day's proceedings. After all, children defeating the darkest wizard of the modern world was unheard of.

What were they even supposed to say to others? They hadn't seen how their children managed such a task.

In fact, they weren't even sure it was something Hadrian or Arthur had done.

All they knew was, Voldemort had slipped through the wards and fired a killing curse at the twins, before mysteriously dying under his own spell.

Moments later, the familiar cracking sound of someone apparating outside of the house's grounds could be heard.

It set James and Lily on edge, and James – self designated martyr that he was, urged Lily to stay behind until he could see who it was.

Lily placed Hadrian back inside the crib, beside Arthur – who had finally stopped crying. She stood guarded, her wand propped ready in a defensive stance.

In the meantime, James crept through the hallway. He stood crouched just above the set of stairs leading to the living room.

"JAMES!" a familiar voice yelped as it bustled through the front door. James relaxed as he took in the man's appearance. "Prongs?"

"Yes, I'm here, you mangy old dog." James sighed as he went down the steps. "Lily, its fine! It's just Sirius!"

"What on earth happened?" Sirius asked as he clambered up the steps, pushing slightly past James so that he could reach the children. He moved with haste, and stumbled quickly into the room where Lily and the children resided.

"Oi!" James grumbled, affronted by Sirius' lack of care. "Where's your manners, Black? I was expecting to hear, 'I'm so glad you're alive, my greatest and most handsome friend!'"

Sirius scoffed over his head, "Greatest? Debatable. Most handsome? Most definitely, not."

"Play nice!" Lily clipped Sirius around the back of the head.

"Sorry, mother."

Sirius then turned towards the children and began assessing them clumsily. It was clear that he was no professional, and it was highly unlikely he paid attention in the one Muggle Studies first-aid lesson he took during his OWLs. Even still, it was highly endearing to James and Lily, to see how much he cared about the twins.

"Sirius…" James started. "What do you know? Did Dumbledore send you?"

Sirius looked at James stone-faced, before the tension released and he fell back onto one of the chairs nearby. "I was waiting at the safe house, just like we planned. We – Moony and I – waited, for the rest of the Order to swing by. A little Halloween get-together. The others thought it would be nice to have just one night where we could relax, take our minds off of the war."

"Peter", James interrupted, his face set in barely-masked anger. "He wasn't at the party, was he?"

Sirius shook his head.

It was slightly shocking, to see Sirius so calm. He was the more impulsive one out of the two, and for him to be so quiet – and patient for once, irked James.

It was always clear to see when James was angry. Try as he might, he could never mask his feelings properly – especially around those he loved.

Sirius however… he either exploded, or held it until his anger reached dangerous levels, before exploding. Either way, the outcome was the same.

"Don't." he said to the long-haired Black. "Not now. Especially not before everyone is accounted for."

"But James!" Sirius hissed. His grey eyes hardened with a promise of silent fury. "We can't let him go. Not after what he's done. Think of what could have happened to you! To Lily! And the-!"

"I know! Alright?" James yelled, placing his hands on Sirius' shoulders, pushing him down as the man made effort to rise. "I know. But Peter won't be hard to find, Sirius. The Dark Lord is gone.

Voldemort is dead! We have to honour the ones lost and rebuild, now that we have the chance. Peter…he'll get what he deserves, but not right now."

Sirius stared him down defiantly, before looking away and mumbling. "Fine."

"I promise, the rat will pay for what he's done."

"No."

James rolled his eyes, before allowing himself a tired smile. "I solemnly swear."

Sirius smirked as he stood up, pushing James backwards. Lily caught him, and with a smile – she shook her head.

She had chosen to stay quiet, allowing the two to work out their grievances together. She too wanted Peter to face the punishment he deserved, for endangering her children, and betraying the Order.

But she knew that the betrayal had unravelled years of connection between the Marauders. And in some ways, might have even made their camaraderie stronger. She knew that however much pain that Peter's betrayal had caused her, was minuscule in comparison to what James and Sirius were feeling at that moment.

Whilst Lily had almost lost her family; to James, Sirius and Remus, she reasoned it must have felt like actually losing a brother.

She turned her face toward the gurgling of her babies, which then reminded her of what had to be done.

"James." Lily pressed, "St. Mungo's. Now."

He nodded, and quickly picked up Hadrian. The three of them then apparated out of the building, leaving with three consecutive cracking sounds.

...

St. Mungo's.

The Potters sat beside the small crib that the Healers placed Hadrian and Arthur in, and waited with bated breath. They had been waiting for hours, and fighting sleep for even longer.

The Healers talked in hushed tones, and looked rather unsure about what was going on. One of the Healers, Miss Brown was her name, worked for the Order – and had managed to pull some strings to find them a place more… secure. Lily reckoned Dumbledore had a hand in it.

It was no secret that the Potters were active members of the war. They were often the first to respond against the Dark Lord's attacks. It came as no surprise that tales of their escape from Voldemort, three times – was whispered amongst the public. It had become expected of them.

As such, it was disconcerting to see them in St. Mungo's after a period of inactivity. With children, at that.

"Erm, Mr. and Mrs. Potter," Healer Brown tapped them on the shoulder as she walked by. "Your parents are here."

The tired and withered faces of Charlus Potter, and Dorea Black came into view at the end of the stretched hallway the Healer brought James to. Whilst James went to greet them, Lily had opted to stay behind, and watch after the children.

"Mum, Dad!" James called out, before realising that he was in a Hospital. He mouthed the words 'sorry', to the nearby Healers and visitors, before walking briskly towards his parents.

They hugged him tightly, silent – but thankful that he had survived.

"Sirius told us what happened," Dorea breathed, "We're so glad all of you made it out fine."

Her eyes were glossy, and her hands trembled as he brushed James' hair with her hands.

"Are the children fine?" Charlus asked as his eyebrows drew in together. His wrinkles became pronounced as he frowned deeply.

"That's what we're here to discuss."

James swivelled his head to face behind him, from where the voice emerged. Standing behind him – was no one other than Albus Dumbledore. He was wearing bright red robes – with spiralling suns adorned on the hems of his arms. Outlandishly garish, but conservative by his standards.