God Bless the Broken Road

A chill wind was blowing. That in itself was a bit unusual--who expects cold weather in August? But it seemed to fit the gloom of the graveyard. The dark clouds overhead held a threat of rain. The wind whipped through trees, causing dead branches to click together and the cornstalks in the field next door to shake violently. Not many people were out that morning.

A lone figure stood at the gate. Beshrouded in a long overcoat, a wide-brimmed hat crammed down low, hiding eyes uplifted to the hill in the cemetery, no one could have guessed that this well-covered man held a well-hidden guilt--and a well-hidden secret.

I should have been there for them, he thought sadly to himself. Why I survived when they didn't, I'll never know. But I should have died.

He rested a strong, powerful, careworn hand on the top of the gate contemplatively. His hand slid down the gate and brushed the latch, wondering. Finally, reluctantly, he decided against it. James Potter had a long way to go before he could forgive himself enough to approach those graves. Lowering his hand, he sighed, blew a kiss to the hillside, and turned away. He almost ran over the young boy approaching him.

The boy was wrapped in a black cloak, with a hood over his head, probably to protect his ears. In his hand he clutched a small bouquet of flowers. "Sorry," the boy said quickly, moving aside.

"No, no, it's my fault," James assured him. "I'm sorry, I'm a little preoccupied." He looked at the flowers in the boy's hand. "Do you know someone buried here?"

The boy nodded. "My parents. And most recently my godfather."

So the boy was an orphan. "I'm sorry about that," James said sincerely. "When did your parents die?"

"I was only a baby. They were murdered."

"I'm sorry," James said again. It felt insufficient.

The boy looked up, and James felt a tear at his heart. The young man's serious, troubled eyes were emerald green, with a familiar shape to them. "Who...I mean, do you know someone buried here?"

James nodded. "My wife and my son...and I think my best friend."

The boy raised his eyebrows. "You think?"

"I...I kind of cut myself off from the world when my family was killed," James admitted. "I went so far as to move out of the country to get away from the pain...but I've decided to re-enter the world. I asked someone if they'd heard of him and they said he was dead."

"I'm sorry," the boy said. James knew he meant it. "Were you going in?"

James shook his head. "No, I...I just left."
The boy nodded. "Okay. I suppose I'll see you later then." He turned, opened the gate, and advanced slowly through the cold, damp tombstones. James watched him for a second, then sighed and turned away. It was time to go.

~~~

They continued this routine for several days. James would turn up and stare sadly at the stones, trying to resurrect at least a little of the old Gryffindor courage--a courage that seemed to have deserted him when he awoke in the rubble to find his family dead. About fifteen minutes later, the boy in the black cloak would arrive. They'd exchange pleasantries, talk for a second or two, and then the boy would go in and James would leave, after lying yet again and saying that he'd already been. In this way James learned that the boy lived with his aunt and uncle, that he didn't have any friends in the neighborhood, and that he went to a boarding school.

Day in, day out...the routine never changed. Until one day, about two weeks later, James arrived at the same time he always did. Fifteen minutes later, he half-turned instinctively, looking for the young boy. He wasn't coming.

James rechecked. Still no sign of the young boy. Five minutes passed and James was starting to worry--which surprised him--when he noticed the boy approaching. He wasn't alone--a friend of his had apparently come along as well.

As the boy and his companion approached, James noted that it was a girl, with bushy brown hair and gentle brown eyes. James instantly liked her--and unconsciously relaxed. He raised a hand in greeting.

The girl jumped, but the boy raised a hand in kind. "Good morning," he said as they joined James at the gate, sounding a little less weary. James noted the flowers he held in his hand. It caused a mild pang. Marigolds. Lily had loved marigolds.

"Morning. You like marigolds?" he asked, nodding at them.

The boy shrugged mildly. "They're nice flowers. My aunt says they were my mother's favourite."

James nodded thoughtfully and glanced at the girl's bouquet. Some sort of small, white flowers clustered together. "What do you call those?" he asked her, gesturing to the bunch she held.

"Baby's breath," the girl answered. "It's for my little sister...she's buried here."

"I'm sorry about that," James said sincerely. "How old is she? I mean..."

The girl smiled. "It's okay, I know what you mean. If she'd lived she would be six, but she only lived about two hours. She was born with a heart valve defect." She tucked a strand of bushy brown hair behind her ear. "Are you going in?"

James shook his head, like he always did. "No, I just left."

The boy nodded. "See you later, then." He and his friend swung open the creaking gate, passed through the portal of the brave and broken-hearted. Lonely are the brave...James thought pensively as the girl closed the gate behind them and followed her friend up the hill.

Usually James left at this point, but today he leaned on the fence a little and watched the couple. The girl paused halfway up the hill, and the boy stopped as well, turning back to her. The girl knelt and laid her small bunch of flowers on a small grave. She stood quickly, turned to the boy, and reached out for his hand. Together, they progressed to the top of the hill. The boy knelt and laid his flowers onto a grave James couldn't see, then straightened. The girl put an arm around his shoulders, and the two just stood there for a while.

A sudden pop distracted James from the two figures on the hill. Looking in the direction the noise had come from, he saw a slight shimmer in the air, and then a man, all in black, materialised. James frowned slightly, wondering what the man could be up to, but when he pulled out a wand and pointed it up the hill it somehow all made sense. Just as the man in black uttered a curse and a blast of light shot out of the wand and up the hill, James tackled him from behind with a roar, sending them both into a clump of bushes. Years of working with an American police force had taught him exactly what to do, so he wrestled the man's arm behind his back, attempting to prise his fingers off the wand. The man struggled the entire time and simply clutched the wand tighter in a fist that seemed unnaturally cold. Grasping the man's wrist, James forced the hand upwards and noticed, to his surprise, that it seemed to be encased in a silver gauntlet. The man gripped his wand so tightly at this point that it broke in his hand. Actually, to be more accurate, it crumbled. The end fell away, useless.

Now that he had rid the man of his main weapon, James wrestled him to his feet and stood behind him, twisting his arm, preventing him from escaping. Glancing up the hill, he could see no sign of the green-eyed boy or his bushy-haired companion and prayed that they had heard the spell and ducked in time.

James heard two more pops and turned. A line of bushes prevented him from seeing who had just Apparated in, but he could hear them talking, and the first one sounded furious.

"What were you doing? Leaving him on his own like that--"

"Well, his friend was there, I thought it was--"

"You thought? Keep it up, Mundungus, I need a good laugh."

"I had somewhere unavoidable to be! And Arabella--"

"--is twenty blocks in the other direction and totally powerless to help him!" The voice sounded furious. "If anything's happened to him, Mundungus Fletcher, I will join Molly in holding you personally accountable!"

"Remus?"

James sighed with relief. It was the green-eyed boy and he sounded confused and slightly afraid. His companion was clutching his arm fearfully.

"Harry!" The first voice sounded relieved. James could see the other man as he, James, dragged the man in black out from behind the bushes. He was tired and careworn, his clothing (rather badly) patched and darned in several places, with greying brown hair and brown eyes.

The man rushed forward and gave the young boy a tight hug. The boy hugged him back just as tightly. "Remus, what...what happened?" he asked shakily.

"Something happened?" the man said sharply. He turned to the second man, an impish and slightly sheepish-looking young man, and fixed him with a glare before turning back to the boy called Harry. "I don't know, Harry, I wasn't here."

James stepped into the open, forcing the man before him, who growled furiously. "This...whoever he is...attempted to attack these two," he told them, gesturing to the young couple. "I think you'll find what's left of his wand in the bushes there."

The second man looked at him in surprise. "What stopped him?"

"I did. I've been working for an American police force for a few years...training sort of took over."

The boy gave him a slight smile of gratitude. "Good thing you hadn't left yet then."

James gave him a crooked half-smile. "Guess so." He looked at the two men. "Who do I give this piece of trash to?"

"Hold on a sec. I'll get the authorities," the second man said quickly. He winked at the boy and Disapparated.

The first man shook his head. "Molly is going to kill him...and I'm probably going to wind up helping," he sighed.

"Somehow, I doubt that," the boy said quietly.

The man smiled a tired sort of smile. "True. I'm sorry, I just got kind of worried when I realised that he'd left you by yourself...again...especially after what happened last time." He looked up at James. "I suppose we owe you a lot."

"You don't owe me anything," James assured the man. Then he did a double take. The man looked so familiar...and then what the boy called Harry had called him registered. Remus...Lupin? Oh, Remus, what have you done to yourself?

Remus didn't seem to recognise James, though. "So who is this?"

"No clue," James shrugged.

Remus moved forward. "Here..." He reached for the captive's arm.

"No!" James said sharply, startling everyone, including himself. A little more calmly, he added, "I mean...I've got him."

The boy--Harry--got a glimpse of the arm James was twisting and touched Remus lightly on the arm. "Remus...it's Pettigrew."

James blanched. Remus whirled and stared at Harry. "Petti...how can you tell, Harry?"

"His hand," Harry said, pointing to the arm James was holding.

Remus looked at it, paled, and swallowed. Before he could say anything, there was a series of pops and about twenty wizards came up.

"Which one are we after?" a woman asked Remus, arms folded across her chest. She had a short, bubble-gum pink hairdo and a questioning--if slightly furious--look on her face. James thought he vaguely recognised her, but he wasn't sure. "This one, this one, or that one?" She pointed, first to James, then to Pettigrew, then jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the man who had accompanied Remus.

"I'm tempted to tell you Mundungus, but as that would rather defeat the purpose..." Remus nodded at Pettigrew. "It's Peter Pettigrew."

The woman nodded. "All right, hand him over. We'll take him from here." James surrendered his former secret-keeper and friend to the group. About twenty people grabbed him at once, then all of them Apparated, leaving the two youngsters, Remus, and James.

The girl smiled up at James. "Thank you, sir. It seems we owe you our lives."

"I already told you, you don't owe me anything," James repeated. His hat had tilted backwards on his head, so he took it off to readjust it. Suddenly, he noticed both Remus and Harry staring at him. "What?"

The girl looked from Harry to Remus to James, and suddenly her eyes widened. "Oh, my..."

Remus blinked in astonishment. "J--James?"

James grinned. "Took you long enough. Sorry I haven't written..."

"Written?" Remus repeated weakly. "I...you...but..."

"We thought you were dead," Harry said softly.

James chuckled. "Nope. I told you a while ago, my wife and son were killed. After that I went to America and basically cut off all contact with England...and the wizarding world...so I'm--"

"That isn't true," Remus interrupted him.

"What?"

"Your son isn't dead."
"How do you know?"

Harry reached up and pulled back his hood. James's breath caught in his throat. The boy had jet-black hair that was sticking up in all directions.

James swallowed hard. "H-Harry?"

"Dad," Harry said quietly.

Neither one of them moved for a second. Once the second was up, though, they were hugging more tightly than James ever thought he would. The girl grinned warmly. Even Remus was smiling. James let go of his son long enough to hug his best friend.

After all the hugging, James looked from Harry to Remus and back. "Okay, now I have a dumb question. What do I do now?"

Remus put his hand on Harry's shoulder lightly. "Harry was going to be staying the remainder of the summer with us anyway...we'll be meeting him in about an hour, and I think Hermione's coming too, so you two better go pack," he added, looking at the two of them.

Harry nodded. "All right, see you in an hour then." Briefly, he flashed his father a sincere smile before heading off with the girl--Hermione, James supposed.

Remus grinned at his friend. "And you'll be staying too, of course. You and Harry deserve a chance to get to know each other better."

James hesitated. "Remus...what about Sirius?"

Remus swallowed. "What about him?"

"Well...I've been hearing from people, Muggles mostly, that Sirius is dead. Is there any truth in that?"

Remus swallowed again and nodded. "I'm afraid so. Last June...it's Sirius that Harry comes to see, almost as much as Lily or you...what we thought was you. He didn't suffer," he added hastily, seeing the stricken look on James's face. "It was sudden and brief, over in ten seconds, although it felt so much longer to us."

James looked up the hill for a second. He still didn't have the courage to go in, so he merely touched his lips lightly, blowing a single kiss towards wife and friend at the top of the hill. Then he turned back to Remus. "Okay," he said quietly. "I'm ready."