the_debt_of_time

Rolling his eyes, James ran a hand through his messy black hair. "Yes, you did. In
your own way, and none of us listened. We were all stubborn, just like you're being now."
Harry smiled softly when Hermione pouted petulantly.
"I'm not―"
James laughed at the look on her face and just smiled down at her. "Mia, love, you
have to live. You've been doing so good with Sirius. You've been getting better. Don't let
one stupid day of the year ruin all of that."
"But I let you die."
"And you've saved my son," he said, his eyes turning to look at Harry who dropped
his gaze to the ground, not used to parental appraisal. "More times than I can count. I
would gladly die a thousand deaths if it meant that he lived."
Clearing his throat, Harry slowly inhaled as he tried to focus. It would do no good
to stop Hermione crying if he started himself. Whether for her or himself—he was not
sure—Harry took her hand and squeezed it gently before returning his attention to his
father.
"I could have saved all of you," Hermione argued. "I could have fixed it."
James shook his head. "No. You couldn't."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do. I'm dead. I'm in the afterlife, which means I know more than you," James
said rather smugly, looking a lot like Sirius. Then, using a fake mystical voice that sounded
like Professor Trelawney after too much cooking sherry, he said, "I know all the secrets to
life."
Hermione finally broke a smile. "Fine," she said, sniffing. "If you're so smart and
you know everything, then where did I hide your collection of Playwizard magazines in sixth
year?"
"That was you?! I thought Sirius stole those!" James bristled and then looked down
to see Harry staring at him with wide eyes. James cleared his throat nervously and scratched
the back of his head. "I mean... because.. ." He turned and looked to Hermione for
help.
"No, no." She grinned slyly, wiping her eyes. "You're doing great, Jamie. Dig
yourself out of that hole."
James looked down at Harry. "Er, Son.. ."