"De Leones Jactare"

Translation: "The Lion's Pride"

The world was whitewashed and shaky. It was like a pounding hangover without the submissive pain. It was freedom within the crevice of time. It was a prison of light. It was a floating sensation in the inky blackness of the unknown. Closing his eyes with minimal effort, the figure thought back to the incident that led to this state of being.

A warbling siren, the proximity ward announcing the arrival (and subsequent collapse of several wards) of the Dark Lord. One of the inhabitants leapt to his feet, casting an alarmed glance at his wife in the room, drinking in her image as he knew it would likely be the last time he saw her. Shaking his head to remove those depressing and distracting thoughts, he drew his wand and strode across the room to embrace her as the klaxon continued to blare around them.

"I love you, Lils." he murmered, kissing her tenderly, "and I'm sorry for everything... and this." Pushing back from her, he pointed up the stairs "Take Harry and go, I'll hold him off." The flash of understanding in her eyes pained him to his core, but he had to give time for the two most important and beloved people in his life to escape.

"Merlin Peter, what have you done?" he murmured, moving behind the frame of the hallway's threshold, watching the front door, his wand gripped firmly in his hand in preparation. "Moony, I'm so sorry we thought you were the spy. I'm so sorry." The klaxon cut off suddenly with something akin to a shriek. Wetting his dry lips subconsciously, James whispered lowly as footsteps sounded slowly outside his door. "I'll miss you, Padfoot, most of all."

With a resounding crack, the door split in two and was blasted inwards in a shower of splinters, that had anyone been standing directly behind it, they would have been impaled by the spikes and debris that flew down the hallway. Without even giving the dust a chance to clear, James flicked his wand silently at the hole where the door used to be and threw a bludgeoning curse.

The spell petered out on a bright shield that leapt into being with a low hum around the tall ominous figure that stalked into the house uninvited. The Dark Lord threw back a jet black spell causing James to dive sideways into the living room to avoid, the heat from the energy of the magic searing by to begin an inferno in the kitchen.

James rolled to his feet using his auror training and without pausing to recover from his landing, he swished his wand back and forth in a spell chain. Dodging left and right as he cast piercing, blasting and bombardment curses at the Dark Lord. Diving behind the couch, he schooled his features, repressing the rising panic that he was not going to defy the Dark Lord a fourth time.

"Come out, little Potter... you cannot defeat me. I am the DARK LORD VOLDEMORT! I will find you, and I will make you watch as I murder your family, piece by piece." The sickly sweet yet hardened and deadly voice carressed the inside of the Potter patriach's ear like barbed wire being drawn across tender salted flesh.

With an inarticulate roar of rage, James stood up and fired curse after curse at the Dark Lord, not bothering to dodge as he stood his ground, Dark spells ripping through him and making his eyes go bleary in pain. He fought to keep his balance, standing tall, knowing that death was coming as his wand was ripped from his grasp, blood splattering and dripping over the walls, floor and couch.

Wheezing loudly from his battered form, James could taste iron and bile welling in his mouth.
"Harry... will stop you." he uttered, blood flecking his lips as he stared down the red eyes looming out of the dark smoke that roiled from the kitchen.

"Kneel, and you will be granted mercy." whispered the Dark Lord. "Kneel before your Lord and Master."

"By Godric, I WILL NOT!" howled James and threw himself at his attacker with his last ounce of energy as a familiar green glow connected and blasted him across the room into the spell damaged bookcase. He was dead long before the displaced books began to bury his corpse.

He had been watching his last moments over and over, waiting for some change in the surrounding rippling landscape. Something brushed his hand. It took a wit and an age to turn his as of yet motionless head to even glimpse the figure next to him. His heart broke and reformed as he stared into the once green eyes of his love, Lily. Words were not needed as they stared at each other in the balance of Darkness and Light.

Together in life and in death, they wept for their son as the last moments of each of their lives faded away and was replaced with the grueling journey that Harry James Potter would face. It wasn't all bad, they shared the good times and the painful, feeling pride at the second meeting of Voldemort and Harry or the bars on Harry's window. They watched amusedly as Gilderoy Lockhart who they had both known in school get blasted by a faulty wand, and gripped with a ghostly fear as the Basilisk fought and lost to their son.

James was torn when Harry stopped the last true Marauders from executing Pettigrew, he knew that he wouldn't have wanted them to become killers, but Peter - the boy they had known and befriended - had died the moment he had taken the Mark. Only the rat Wormtail remained, and it wasn't illegal to squash out vermin. But he was glad that Harry and his friends weren't party to a Thestral inducing experience at such a young age.

During the Third Task, James felt a strange sensation as Lily jolted away from him, as if there was something yanking her away from him. Reaching back silently, their eyes wide and afraid of this new unknown aspect of the inky darkness they found themselves in, they were helpless as Lily was pulled away towards a shining ethereal doorway. Just before she entered, he felt himself jerk and shift with the same motion that she had, and knew that wherever she was going, he was sure to follow.

"Hello son." James choked up, seeing his son up close for the first time in over thirteen years. "We're so proud of you. But we can't stay long, just a few moments after the connection is broken. We can help you escape, again. Get back to the portkey, warn everyone. I love you, we both love you." He wished he could hold Harry in his arms again, but knew that as he could barely touch Lily here, that wouldn't work out at all. He vaguely registered the young Hufflepuff requesting Harry deliver his body to his own parents.

Readying himself, James whispered to Harry "On our signal... NOW!" He watched as proudly as a father could be, as Harry jerked up the wand and turned to run as best he could in the opposite direction towards the gilded trophy in the distance as the gold dome collapsed. James and the other spirits swarmed the astonished and enraged Dark Lord "OUT OF MY WAY!" cried the inhuman snakelike creature, swiping violently through the ghostly figures. James exploded with rage his last epitaph "By Godric, I WILL NOT!" as the ghostly echoes collided with the reborn evil form.

James opened his eyes gingerly, or what passed for eyes in the milky blotted out expanse that passed for a world since his death. Lily's hand was in his again, as he focused on the scrying bowl in front of him, watching his son's fifth year. It had taken a while in this seemingly timeless expanse to recover from their echoes being imprinted on the world in the Graveyard. But they were happy to do it, and so proud.

Harry's fifth year passed by quickly with equal amounts of fear, joy and horror - as the Blood Quill was a legal tool used in signing contracts and was thus illegal to use on both a minor and in any instance that was superfluous such as writing lines - it was common knowledge amongst Purebloods, of which Delores Umbridge was not. But that was no excuse for the Ministry's sycophant.

A confusing flurry of action and despair happened in a short space of time, leaving Lily and James blinking in shock at what happened, until a hand clapped on James' shoulder, spinning him around nauseously in the swirling smoky gloom to see a ghostly form of Padfoot staring at him with a hint of a smile on his face that slowly broke into a grin as his eyes brimmed with tears.

"I'm so sorry, James." he whispered in the darkness, the first sound that had echoed that didn't come from the scrying that detailed his son's adventures. James battered the hand off his shoulder and embraced his adopted brother, forgoing the manly attitude that one should ostensibly have when hugging another man; social parameters be damned.

"Men," whispered Lily, wrapping her arms around the two, "so emotionally stunted."

Sixth and what would be seventh year passed as the three hovered over the bowl, watching as Harry battled the forces of evil, the uknown and the mystery surrounding his own destiny. They cheered for every horcrux he destroyed, catcalled when he kissed the Weasley girl, and clutched each other in fear as he went toe to toe with his attackers and oppressors.

Surprising even themselves, they were saddened at the death of Wormtail, despite all he had done, he had still been their friend in the formative years. They caught a glimpse of him entering what Lily had deduced was likely the Wizarding form of Purgatory - as they had not seen anyone but magical beings in the milky expanse - but he did not stay long and moved off into the distance away from them.

Hoping to never have to feel the same emptiness inside as they watched Remus and Tonks pass on into their next Great Adventure and join them at the scrying bowl, the last true Marauders felt a shiver pass all over them as Harry died and revived moments later, too old to be the Boy Who Lived, he fought Voldemort alongside the Longbottom's boy and the residents of Hogwarts, finally ending the Dark Lord's reign of terror and becoming the Man Who Won.

A shudder rippled through the whiteness and a shimmering gold gateway materialized beyond the scrying bowl as it dried up and cracked, no longer useful or needed. The golden filigree spiraled up the marble columns, dancing along the metal frame and spelling out AVALON, the final resting place for magical souls.

The Marauders, Tonks and Lily straightened their backs and strode through the gateway side by side, all equal and all at rest.

All was well, and everything had been resolved.