“How much are ya paying me to do it?” Mundungus asked, with a tone that seemed to imply that it was only the quantity of money in question and not the fact that he’d be paid.

“Absolutely nothing.”

“James, I –”  She hesitated.  Lily wanted nothing more than to comfort him, to tell him that his dad would get better and everything would be okay again, but Fleamont Potter was old in his years.  “We…we’ll make sure he gets all the help that he can.”

“I should get over there.”

“We can go visit him, if you’d like,”  Lily quickly suggested.  “I’m sure seeing you could make him feel better.  And…we’ll make something that he likes to eat, too.  Would…would they let us visit him?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Growing increasingly concerned, Lily put down her things and moved to sit next to James.  She took the letter from him and began to read it through.  Even before she’d gotten to the end of it her frown had deepened.  Lily quickly looked back to James and put a hand on his shoulder.  “Oh my god, James…I…I’m so sorry.”

Lily was on her way back from the Puddlemere Institute with a thick roll of notes in one hand and a wrapped up sandwich in her other.  She’d finished class for the day already, then had revised some of her notes over lunch.  Figuring James would be hungry too, she decided to bring him the other half of her sandwich.

“James–”  She called as she opened the door to their house.  Their house, Lily still couldn’t get over the fact that they lived together, but Lily looked forward to coming home to him every day.  Holding the sandwich out in front of her, Lily went to the living room.  But, when she saw James on the couch with a crumpled letter in his hand, her smile felled.  “James?”  She repeated.  “Are you okay?  I brought you some lunch.”

James opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find the words. Silently, he released his hold on the letter, holding it out for Lily.

James had gotten home from work to find his parents owl perched on the sofa, large and regal in comparison to his own. Reaching for the container of treats, he fed the bird one before reaching for the letter attached to its foot, watching as it spread its wings and took off out of the window before tearing open the envelope. 

He had to read it twice. Then he had to sit down and read it again. It was from his mother, about his father.

The letter was still crumpled in his hand, read tenfold, when he heard the door open.

“Oh, my mistake.” She laughed. “Just do me a favor. Don’t get my little one involved in your pranks. The last thing any of us need is a six year old mini Sirius Black.”

“We can agree on that one.”

“You’re just as useless as ever, Potter.” He muttered. It killed him to know that James Potter had won. However, the one thing Severus refused to admit to himself was that it was mostly his own fault.

“Just like your opinion.”

Severus knew exactly what James was trying to do, and he wasn’t going to let him get the upper hand. Steeling himself, his face emotionless, he responded. “Just because you and Lily are playing house, it doesn’t mean you’re any more mature than before, Potter. Don’t think that ring on your finger suddenly makes you wise.”

“Uh huh,” was all James said in response, turning away slightly. They may be out of school now, but Snape still wasn’t worth his time.

“Uh huh. One sip of that and chances are I’d have hair as colorful as Nymphadora’s. Only mine would probably take weeks to change back. I know all your tricks, James Potter.”

“Now that -- we’d never do the same trick twice.”

“Don’t pretend like it’s not true.” She chided. “You and Sirius are practically joined at the hip. Always have been.”

“Doesn’t mean I’d stoop so low --”

“Anyone would be a fool to drink anything you offered them. It’s probably something that will turn their skin blue, or something equally as juvenile.”

“Not so fast -- I’m a married man now, if you hadn’t heard. Above all that.”

“No offense, James. But, considering you’re best friends with my cousin, I think I’d rather not. I don’t trust either of you.”

“Lumping me in with him -- ouch.”

“No, thank you. I appreciate my life very much.”

“More for me, then.”