James had been thanking Merlin ever since they told him about this party. Not that he was exactly in the party mood, but he'd never been a solitary sort, and there was far too much on his mind that he didn't want to be left alone to brood about. He was slowly absorbing everything he'd learned from Moony, Padfoot, and Harry—trying to anyway—but it was overwhelming to think about. Too easy to get started on self-recriminations and anger that wasn't going to do anybody any good forty years after the fact. And angst was not something that had ever suited James Potter very well.
No, a distraction would be perfect. A night surrounded by people and lights and life, spent with his friends, and ignoring the fact that they were older than they ought to have been. At least they only had a few years on him; he could ignore that. Try to pretend for a few hours that things weren't completely bollixed up and him with no idea what to do about it.
Obviously he had no dress robes, but he'd been able to borrow a set of Harry's. They were damn close to the same size; he'd only needed a little help from Moony to narrow the shoulders and lengthen the hem a bit. His son had good taste, he reflected, with a grimace for the weirdness of the situation. Comfortable, not too ornate, in a nice dark crimson with gold trim.
Harry had gotten there a bit earlier than himself and Remus, and as they entered the Great Hall James spotted his son across the room. Lily fancied green, he thought with a pang; he always jibed her about dressing Slytherin though she looked stunning in that color.
He couldn't think of her in the past tense. Maybe he had to accept that she'd died that Halloween night, but so had he, hadn't he? Whatever magic had brought him back had to return her to him—and to Harry. Surely she deserved the chance to see how well their son had turned out.
Though he doubted she'd be any more thrilled than he was to learn that Harry had been handed off to Petunia.
But those were more of the things he wasn't thinking about tonight. The crowd was enormous and colorful and mostly not familiar, though he wondered if in some cases it might be because the last time he'd seen a person they'd been almost half a century younger. That kind of time could change a person.
Coming back to himself, he caught Remus turning down a selection of hors d'oeuvres, and he couldn't help a wry smile. Talk about old times... Reaching out, he snagged two toffee apples and pushed one into Remus's hands. "Come on, Moony, if we don't eat it it'll just get thrown out. Live a little."